Page 23 of Tinder Embrace
He handed me a helmet, which I dutifully strapped on before clambering on behind him. The seat was large, but not so big that I could put much space between us.
I snuggled up against his butt, holding him tight as he accelerated. The utility vehicle gave me an excuse to inhale his soapy-clean smell. I’d discovered that he showered every morning and every evening, leaving me aching to run my fingers through his tousled wet hair.
Davis drew to a stop by the stack of firewood, and I focused on reining in my racing heart, warmer than I had any right to be on such a cold evening. Slowly, I slipped from behind him, pleased when my knees held. It would have been hard to explain my jelly legs to him if they failed me.
I settled into one of the Adirondacks pulled up to the firepit, shivering.
"I'll have the fire going in just a sec," Davis promised, tugging logs from his stash.
He built and lit the fire in record time.
I shivered, the flames licking at the kindling still too feeble to give much heat.
Davis dropped into the chair beside me with a sigh, frowning at me.
"What?" I asked.
"You're cold."
"Yes, and?"
He sighed, his exhale one long gust that sounded like he was preparing for something. "Come 'ere."
It took me a moment to get his meaning. He patted his knee, and my eyes rounded.
I might hate myself later for being so transparent, but I'd never scrambled so fast to vacate one of the deep Adirondacks. I eased onto his knee, careful not to invade his space more than necessary. Davis was being kind, offering to warm me up.
Soaking up the moment, letting his heat warm me, I sat quietly. With a grumble too low for me to hear, he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around me to pull me more firmly into his lap, his breath stirring the hair on the top of my head.
He was warm at my back, and I closed my eyes, savoring the moment and his heat.
The fire crackled, a soothing soundtrack in contrast to my thumping pulse.
Slowly, I became aware of each contour of his body. I couldn’t ignore the bulge nudging my bottom, making me at once more self-conscious and more eager to wring every ounce of closeness I could out of the moment. His big palms cupped my shoulders, dragging slowly down my arms, building friction. His heat engulfed me, the scent of his soap wrapping me in familiarity.
I wriggled against him, trying to burrow further.
“Please, stop moving.” The breathy plea was unlike anything I’d ever heard from Davis. A sure sign that he was as affected as I was. I stilled, but that bit of reassurance made me giddy, tempting me to wiggle more firmly into his embrace, until he never wanted to let me go.
“Better.”
I smiled at the strangled quality to his voice. We sat quietly. He kept stroking my arms, slowly infusing them with his warmth, the flames and his caress lulling me into a trance.
"I don't know why y'all insist on doing these weekly fires during the winter and spring when it’s still so cold," he grumbled in my ear.
"Maybe we're all just hoping for handsome men to come keep us warm," I murmured, snuggling closer.
Woof.
The feminism leaving my body. Driven to flirt because Davis cuddled me. While sheltering in his arms felt like heaven, it didn't necessarily mean anything to him. And I needed to reassert myself before I died of shame. I'd made it sound like I needed a man to keep me warm. Granted, I wanted one, wantedhim, but that didn't mean Ineededone. Right?Right.
“Is it the handsome part that keeps you warm, or just my bulk?” he rumbled as he placed his hands on the outside of my thighs, making me feel secure, caged in his strength.
His big palms branded me through my jeans, sending a rush of heat between my thighs, which, I could admit privately, was where I really wanted his hands. I could picture it clearly: him unsnapping my fly and stroking his palm along my abdomen, sliding lower.
My thighs spread, aching to make that vision a reality.
Gwen strolled into the circle of light created by the fire. She cleared her throat, no doubt sensing the sexual tension.
