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Let my hands slide down to the swell of her hips, then further until I got a good handful of her ass and pulled her tighter until I could feel the heat between her legs through her thin-ass leggings.

Her hands fisted in my shirt, desperate, clinging like she needed me.

She smelled like berry and sweet grapefruits.

She tasted like honey and heat.

My dick throbbed.

When I finally let her go, she swayed like her body didn’t know how to hold itself up without me. Eyes glassy, lips swollen and I just knew her pussy was wet. My heart was throwing itself against my ribs, but I turned like it wasn’t. Like I didn’t want to drag her back in. I needed her to feel the absence, the hunger I felt. The way I saw it was she should be just as gone over me as I was over her.

An old woman who hadn’t been there before was standing outside the house next door, frozen at the edge of her driveway with a water hose in her hand. She was a cute, with light brown skin and long gray hair, wearing a muumuu.I could tell she was probably one of them girls men chased when she was young.

I nodded at her, real polite.

“Morning, ma’am. Beautiful day, ain’t it?”

“It would be if it was my turn next for a kiss like that,” she grinned.

I grinned back at her.

Zane groaned and pushed past me, keys jingling in her hand. “Morning, ma’am,” she called politely without looking at her.

I laughed.

I watched her walk ahead of me into the house—hips swaying, thighs rubbing together—and had to bite back a groan.

I followed her inside.

She was waiting just on the other side of the door.

“You can’t be kissing me like that,” she said.

“Why not?”

She stared at me for a long minute.

“Because you can’t,” she snapped.

I walked up on her again. Until we were touching.

“Are you really trying to find a reason to fight with me right now now? I know you don’t really give a fuck about me doing what I did the other night. What’s wrong?” I gripped herhands and brought them up to my lips, pressing a kiss to her warm hand.

“Nothing really. I just... I don’t know…”

Okay. I let it go. “When you do know, we’ll talk about it.”

I wasn’t going to force her.

She could pretend all she wanted. Put up whatever little walls she thought would save her from what was happening between us. But at the end of the day, it was happening—and her body already knew what her mouth was too scared to say.

I stepped back and tossed her a pair of work gloves from the pile of supplies on the floor.

She caught them awkwardly, almost dropping them.

“Come on,” I said, walking toward the kitchen.

She followed me silently.