Page 66 of In Your Wildest Dreams
The wind blows her hair into her face again and I capture it, lingering with my fingers caressing her face. Her breath catches.
“I should go inside and find Everly and Grace. Let them know we found blankets,” she says but doesn’t move. Her stare bounces between my lips and eyes like she’s deciding on something.
Everything inside of me screams to close the space between us, but I don’t move until she does.
Bridget leans forward the tiniest amount and then wets her lips. “Can I have more of the lemon drop?”
Without tearing my gaze from hers, I lift the cup to my mouth and take a sip.
“I thought you made that for me.” She smirks, then tracks the movement, her gaze darting to my lips and then to my throat as I swallow. Instead of handing over the cup, I press my mouth to hers.
Adrenaline zaps through me at the small contact. Her soft lips gently mold to mine. I let some of the liquid trickle from my mouth.
She giggles, clearly not expecting it.
“That isn’t what I had in mind,” she says, not pulling away as the sticky, sweet liquid drips down her chin.
“No?”
“No.” She still doesn’t move. We’re breathing each other in and it’s fucking intoxicating.
“Something more like this then?” I bring a hand to the back of her head as I crash my lips back down on hers. I don’t waste any time before deepening the kiss. I’m usually patient, but the weeks I’ve thought about this moment has me rushing. My tongue sweeps in, tasting her with the sugary liquid. A soft moan escapes her lips and goes straight to my dick.
I don’t want to stop, but scaring her off would be worse, so I pull back with a strangled groan.
“Better?”
19
AM I GOING TO HAVE TO KICK YOUR ASS?
BRIDGET
“Good morning!”Everly pokes her head into my room.
When I groan and throw an arm over my eyes to block out the light, she laughs and comes to sit on the end of the bed. The three of us insisted on coming home last night to sleep in our own beds, which I’m thankful for now. My head pounds and my stomach is queasy.
I peek out at her. “How are you not hungover?”
“Oh, I was, but Grace made muffins and I ate like five of them. Soaked the alcohol right up.” She holds up a large muffin on a napkin. “I saved you some and I made fresh coffee.”
“I don’t want food or caffeine. I want sleep.”
“Nooo,” she whines. “You promised to tell me everything that happened with you and Ash this morning. I’m dying. I let you sleep until noon.”
“It’s noon?”
“Yes.”
I groan and sit up. “I don’t think I promised that I’d tell you everything.”
“You did. I’m almost certain.”
“Like you remember anything. You almost fell in the hot tub.”
“Yeah. That last shot was not a great idea.”
My eyes feel like sandpaper and my head aches. “I can’t believe I have to drive home today.”
