Page 51

Fireflies dot the evening like stars playing hide and seek along the reeds that line the lake’s edge. The sound of lapping water keeps the beat with the chirping crickets. The night is alive with nature’s symphony playing along with the song. But none of this can compare to the sound of Jake’s breath in my ear, the feel of his day-old whiskers as he rubs his cheek on mine, the scent that’s uniquely his and now so familiar to me. Or the heat of his hand at the small of my back and the press of his body against mine as we sway to the song coming through the speakers.

The cadence of our bodies moving to the rhythm of a song of our own making. In synch to the beat of our hearts, and a need as old as time. My skin burns under his touch. Warmth pools low in my belly against the press of his erection. My breasts ache, and I push my chest into his. The sound that escapes his lips is half-moan, half-grunt.

“Ava . . .” He traces the line of my neck and up my jaw with his nose and inhales deeply. “Apples. This damn scent. I get aroused every time I smell apples now. And it’s all your fault.”

I giggle. How could I not? But the giggle turns into a gasp when he nibbles at my neck.

Then his mouth finds mine. And I’m lost.

Lost in his taste.

Lost in his touch.

Lost in the heat of his embrace.

We move against each other, our bodies melting together. “Too. Many. Clothes,” I say between kisses.

His hands slide down my sides and slip under my blouse, skin-to-skin contact. They brush my sides and splay on my back. But that’s not where I want his hands. I push my breasts into his chest again, rub against him, and try to soothe the ache. But it has the opposite effect and only leaves me wanting more.

He smiles against my mouth, and his hands come to the front. His thumbs brush the underside of my breasts. The barrier of my silk bra is the only thing keeping his hands from my bare skin.

“Please, Jake.”

His mouth travels down to my collarbone and then to the center of my chest. He tugs at the buttons on my blouse with expert fingers. The buttons open for him, one by one as if they have a will of their own and are as desperate as me to feel his hands on my skin. He pulls me up and places open-mouthed kisses on the exposed skin, licking at the swell of my breasts and tracing the edge of my bra with his tongue.

I have never been this turned on. Jake finds the front closure and releases it. The bra falls open, and night air meets my bare flesh—my skin pebbles under his stare.

He traces the curve of each breast with his fingertips. “Beautiful.”

Right now, I don’t want gentle. I need his hands on me. I take charge, grab both of his hands, and press them against my breasts. Jake squeezes just hard enough to be on this side of intense pleasure. Then he lowers his head and takes a nipple into his mouth. I fist his hair and pull him into me, arching my back to give him better access.

He doesn’t disappoint me. Skilled hands. Skilled mouth. Skilled tongue. Fuck! I have to fight the urge to tackle him to the ground and have my way with him, right here in his backyard—neighbors be damned.

Jake seems to read my mind because he wraps both arms around me, picks me up, and carries me to the sofa on the porch. He lays me down and hovers over me for several seconds, his gaze fleeting all over my body. I look down at myself. I’m a wanton mess. Skirt hiked up to my thighs, blouse open, bra hanging loose.

He moves a knee between my legs to make room for himself, nestles on top of me, and resumes kissing me. I tug at his shirt, eager to feel his skin on mine. He lifts just enough to pull it over his head in that sexy way guys do and settles back on top of me.

I touch him. Splay my hands on his back, trace his sides. His stomach muscles contract under my hands. I slide my hands down his hips and grab his ass. Tilt my hips up, lock my legs around his. He groans. A hiss escapes his mouth when I tilt my hips up again.

He kisses me deeply. His tongue tangles with mine. He sucks, nibbles, and bites.

My core aches for him. I need him inside of me now. Right now. I tug at the sides of his jeans and make my intentions known.

Jake covers my hand with his and stills me. Our kiss becomes less frantic. He’s slowing us down. My racing heart and panting breath become more even. Why is he stopping?

“What?” I’m breathless, and I can’t hide the frustration in my voice.

He brushes a lock of hair away from my forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Someone’s knocking on my door.”

My entire body protests at the interruption. “Now?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” He stands up and pulls me up with him. Then, he arranges my bra, hooking the two sides, and starts to button my shirt. I take over. My fingers shaking.

He finds his shirt on the floor and pulls it over his head. “Give me a minute to find out what’s going on.” He takes a step back and points at my blouse. I missed two buttons, and it hangs sideways off my shoulder.