Page 36

He’s hungry. But I’ve been waiting for this my whole life, and I’mstarving.

I grasp his head, trying to get deeper, closer,more.

He sucks, licks, bites, soothes, plunders, and possesses, and I pray this claiming kiss is a blueprint for what he’s going to do to me later.

The dance floor is a sea, and we are an island erupting from a volcano in the middle of it—with parts unknown waiting to be discovered. But what burns between us is as ancient as time itself, and my body knows what it needs.

His lips blaze a trail down my chin to my neck, and I run my hands over his body, the muscles of his back and waist and ass only heightening my frenzy. “Can we go?”

“Where’s Jodi?” Instead of being annoyed by the delay, my heart marks his question as proof of its good judgment.

“With Dominic.”

“Get your things,” he growls in my ear.

I pat my pocket. “It’s all here.”

He takes my hand and leads me through the crowd and out the door. It’s raining hard, and he tugs me to a stop under the tiny awning. “Let’s wait it out here. My car is at the end of the street.”

He drapes his arm over my shoulder, and I wrap mine around his waist and snuggle against his chest. “Where’s your umbrella?”

“At home,” he mutters.

I lean back and clutch my imaginary pearls. “What in the world has gotten into you?”

He cuts me a side eye. “The forecast called for a 10 percent chance of rain.”

“You were being optimistic,” I say with exaggerated pride.

“I wasn’t. I read the forecast and was stupid enough to believe it.”

“Aww, come on. Admit it. You believed it because you were being optimistic.” I tickle his side.

“I wasn’t.” He makes a grab for my hand, but I move it before he can. “Jules, stop it,” he demands and tries in vain to catch it again.

“Admit it, and I’ll stop.” He stops struggling and stands still like he’s completely unaffected, but when I tickle his other side, I find his funny bone. His stoic resistance disappears, and he bursts into a wild laugh. “Fine, fine. I was being optimistic,” he shouts, and I stop.

“I’ve brought you over to the bright side.” I wiggle my eyebrows and rub my palms together in relish.

“You sadist,” he grumbles, then peers out at the rain and scowls. “Fat lot of good it did me.”

“Indeed. Because one of the greatest desires of my heart is to kiss in the rain. The universe knows and timed it all perfectly.”

I step out from under our shelter and into the rapidly falling rain. The soft, tiny droplets cool my hot skin. My father loved the rain. I know he’d want me to be happy tonight. I know it as surely as I know my own name. I fling my arms wide, splay my fingers, and tip my head up to the heavens.

“It feels so good,” I shout with my eyes closed and spin slowly, reveling in the downpour. The light touch of his fingertips to mine startles my eyes open.

He steps out from under the awning and slides his hand up until our wet fingers are linked. The rain soaks his hair and runs down his beautiful face as he walks me back until I’m pressed against the brick wall of the building.

He cups my face with one hand and slides the other into my wet hair, making a fist and tugging my head back.

He lowers his head so close that the falling rain drips from his lips and onto mine. “I had my mind set on being the only thing that gets you wet tonight.”

The sharp shot of lust takes me by surprise, and I clench my thighs hard. I wrap my arms around his back to pull him as close as I can. “But if a kiss in the rain is what you want, then I’m going to give it to you.” His lips cover mine, and the wet cool of the rain is no match for the heat his touch ignites.

If our kiss on the dance floor was an island erupting, this one is its first flower bud blooming: sweet, tender, and perfect.

But far too short. I try to drag his mouth down to mine when he breaks the kiss. He grabs both of my wrists in one hand and lifts them over my head. He cups my bottom and tilts his hips so the hard length of his dick presses against my stomach.