Page 83 of Golden Touch
Her brown eyes widen. “Noted.”
I step forward and lean in, touching my lips to hers briefly. It’s the only kiss I can give her that doesn’t involve sweat on her clothing. “Give me a five-minute head start. Then feel free to join me in the upstairs shower. It’s roomier than yours.”
“Also noted,” she says softly as I pass her and head for the stairs.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve got Livia right where I want her—braced against the tiles with her hips in my hands. Whatever reservations I have about her facing down criminals are temporarily on hold as our water-slicked bodies move in sync together.
“Give me another one,” I coax her, my soapy hand roaming her breasts. My knees didn’t appreciate spending time on the tile floor, bringing her to climax with my tongue. “You’re so sexy when you moan my name.”
“Mmm,” she whimpers, arching her back. “I don’t know if I…ahhh,” she moans.
“Give me that mouth.”
She turns her chin, and I lose my rhythm on account of our hot, messy kiss. And now the water is turning cold, so I pull out and shut it off. “Let’s go, lady. On my bunk. Like summer camp, but dirtier.”
“I never went to summer camp,” she says, grabbing a towel on her way out of the shower.
“You missed a lot of mosquito bites and charred hot dogs.” I nudge her out of the bathroom toward the bunkroom, where my bed is the only one of the four that’s made up. “The boys in my cabin always dared each other to sneak into the girls’ cabins, but we never actually followed through.”
Livia stops and turns around before we reach the bunkbed, and I bump into her naked body. “Are you telling me you were all talk and no action?”
“I wasthirteen, and they were sequestered across the lake.”
She hoots. “What was your teenage fantasy? If you’d actually swum to the girls’ cabins and snuck inside?”
I grab her towel and toss it aside. “Pretty sure I wouldn’t have even known what to do when I got there. I probably just wanted to see their titties,” I say, palming both her breasts. “If one of those girls actually put her hand on my dick, I probably would have straight-up died of excitement.”
Livia laughs. Then she puts her hand on my very hard cock, stroking me slowly. And my breath actually stutters. “Now you’re living the dream.”
“Nngh. You joke, but it’s true.” I kiss her jaw. “You make me happy, lady. I like your style.” I nudge her toward the bed. “Now lie down on that bed for me so I can show you how much.”
The bunkbed barely survives. And the springs squeak so loudly that Livia actually giggles in the midst of my grand finale.
But I am undeterred, shutting her up with one last, steamy kiss as I sink my tired body onto a narrow strip of the mattress and sigh.
Our hearts thump together for a moment as we come down. The bed stops squeaking, and I find myself listening to the nighttime silence for reassurance that we’re still alone on the property.
“Did you hear something?” she asks tensely.
“No, baby. Just being careful.” I stroke her arm. “I know I told you to stay, and I sure meant it. But I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t worried about Benito’s big plan.”
“But it doesn’t matter. I need to end this,” she argues immediately. “Tonight, when you went out running, I wanted to put on my shoes and go with you. I’m tired of hiding at home, Nash. I want tolive.”
The anguish in her voice shuts me up for a second, because I hadn’t considered all the simple little things she doesn’t feel safe doing right now. And all I can do about it right this moment is pull her into my arms.
She comes willingly. “I almost don’t remember what it’s like not to be afraid,” she says. “You were right. If I don’t stand my ground, I’ll always be looking over my shoulder.”
“Yeah. I hear you. But I still worry. I was the one who sat in the backseat of your car and begged you not to go.”
She runs her fingertips down my tummy. “Aren’t you the guy who told me not to own other people’s decisions?”
Oof.I clamp my jaw shut to keep from arguing that point. And it’s not like she’s wrong—this has to end. So that’s what I’ll have to focus on. “A week from tonight he could be behind bars. What’s the first thing you’ll do to celebrate?”
“Visit Jennie. Check in on my stupid brother. Go out for drinks, in a bar, where anyone might see me. Buy tickets for this summer’s outdoor music festival. Drive my own stupid car…”
“Can I come along for some of that?” I ask, stroking her hair. “I like the way you think.”
She turns her head on the pillow and studies me. “I suppose I could drive to Boston, if my car can make it a hundred and seventy-five miles.”
