Page 82 of Lavender Lake
And I was Salem.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Bar
“We should go back inside,” I murmured, peering up at him.
“In a second,” he said. He pulled me away from the wall and into his arms.
I pressed my cheek to his shirt, and then reared back. “You’re still wet.”
“I am. Are you?” he quipped.
My gaze met his and I grinned. “Why don’t you find out for yourself.”
He kissed my forehead, my nose, my lips. “If I start doing that, I won’t be able to stop. And I’m not fucking you against the wall of a bar. At least not right now. Maybe another time.”
“Another time?” I skimmed my lips across his scruffy jaw, marveling at the fact that touching him now came so easily. “You promise?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I promise.”
“So, is now a good time to talk?” I asked.
“About what?”
I smirked. “You lost the bet.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I think you’ve got it wrong, tater tot.Youlost the bet.”
“How do you figure?Youkissedme.”
“Because you begged me to kiss you,” he pointed out.
“Hmm.” I tapped my chin with my finger. “You did say one night not that long ago that if I came to you and asked, the bet was null and void. Or am I having selective amnesia?”
“No, you’re remembering that correctly,” he agreed. “But I have another idea.”
“What’s that?”
“Seeing as that you’re highly competitive?—”
“Pot meet kettle?—”
“Then the only way to truly settle this, once and for all, is to say that we both lost.”
“Meaning?”
“We both lost.” He dipped his head and bit my earlobe. “Which means we each get a night of fantasy fulfillment.”
I shivered in his arms. “That would be okay with me.”
“Good.” He leaned back and stared at my face.
“We should probably get back inside.”
His fingers played with the fly of my jeans. “What a good idea . . .”
I batted his hand away. “I thought you didn’t want to do it against a wall.”
