Page 88 of Cold as Stone
It’s nearly midnight when Lee finally rescues me from a heated discussion with Cash about the best way to make nachos.
“Dance with me,” he says, pulling me toward the small clearing that’s serving as a makeshift dance floor.
“You don’t dance,” I point out, though I follow him willingly.
“Sure I do.” He pulls me into his arms just as the current song ends and something slow and sweet starts playing. “Perfect timing.”
We sway together in the dim light, and I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment. His hands are warm and sure on my back, his heartbeat steady against my cheek. Around us, the party continues, but it feels like we’re in our own little bubble.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“For this. For them. For giving me somewhere I belong.”
“This is your home, Kya.”
“I know. I can feel it.” I pull back to look at him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He leans down to kiss me, soft and sweet. “Ready to get out of here?”
“God, yes.”
We say our goodbyes, which takes another twenty minutes because apparently leaving an MC party requires hugging everyone individually and promising to attend the next one. By the time we make it to Lee’s bike, I’m exhausted but happy, my heart full to bursting.
The ride to my cottage is peaceful, the night air cool against my skin. When we pull into my driveway, I’m already thinking about getting Lee naked and expressing my gratitude for this perfect evening in the most thorough way possible.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks as we walk up the path to my front door.
“You. Naked. In my bed. Immediately.”
He stops walking so abruptly I nearly run into him. “Jesus, Kya.”
“What? It’s been a perfect night, and I want to end it properly.” I unlock the front door and turn to face him. “Unless you’re too tired?”
His laugh is low and rough. “Never too tired for you.”
The moment we’re inside, he’s on me. His hands are in my hair, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that sets my blood on fire. I kiss him back just as desperately, my hands working at his cut, needing to feel skin.
“Bedroom,” I gasp between kisses.
“Too far,” he growls, backing me against the front door.
His hands are everywhere—skimming up my thighs, bunching my dress around my waist, finding the edge of my panties and stroking over the damp fabric.
“Lee—”
“Right here,” he says, dropping to his knees. “Can’t wait.”
He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my underwear and drags them down my legs. Then his mouth is on me, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out loud enough to wake the neighbors.
He knows exactly how to touch me now, exactly what I need. Within minutes, I’m shaking apart against his mouth, my hands fisted in his hair as waves of pleasure crash over me.
“Bedroom,” he says when I finally come back to myself. “Now.”
This time I don’t argue. I take his hand and lead him down the hall, both of us shedding clothes as we go. By the time we reach my bed, we’re both naked and desperate.
Lee lifts me onto the mattress, following me down and covering my body with his. The weight of him, the heat, the feeling of being completely surrounded by him—it’s everything I need.
