Page 63 of Ly to Me

I didn’t have to think more about that. He chuckled as I nodded my head a little too eagerly.

“The stuff I have right now is kind of heady, but if we stop at my house—”

“No, what you had was fine.” I didn’t know what that meant, but I didn’t really care. “As long as you’re with me, I don’t care what it is.” Something about that statement, the honesty in my words, shifted the mood in the truck.

“You’re my comfort too, Ly.”

Warm fuzzies bloomed in my chest as he pulled off the road and drove through a wooded trail marked for private property. He parked the truck once the entrance was no longer visible, then slid his hand from my thigh and shifted in his seat, pulling out the bag from his pocket. He pinched the top of it, flicking it with his middle finger, then tipped his chin toward the glove box.

“Open that up, there’s a small pipe in there.”

I did as he said and passed him the small glass piece. “Are they all like that?”

“This?” He angled the blue pipe around in his hand as I nodded. “No. There are a lot of different ways to smoke. Some people get really into that aspect, but I personally like the biological and chemical components.”

My ears perked up. “What biological and chemical components?”

“The cannabinoids, the different hybrids and how they can be utilized to treat different medical problems. I was thinking of growing a few plants, but the conditions of the soil around here aren’t the best. Something indoor would be ideal…but I…why’re you lookin’ at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”

“So, you’re like me,” I said with what must’ve been a big grin on my face.

He shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t pin my collection to the walls.”

I jokingly smacked his chest with the back of my hand. “Don’t be mean.”

His eyes dropped, darkening several levels. “I’d never be mean to you, beautiful.” He took a look at the glass on one leg and the weed on his other, then gathered them both up and put it in the pocket on the door.

I glanced around, thinking the cops were coming, having completely forgotten that smoking wasn’t exactly legal.

When my eyes landed back on Carver, he was shifting his seat back.

“What’s wrong?”

He tapped his hands on his legs, his voice almost shaky as he said, “C’mere first.”

“I’m in a dress.”

“I know.” His eyes turned molten at the reminder.

I blushed, then unbuckled my seatbelt and situated myself on top of him, fitting my bent legs on either side of his hips. Before I could talk, his fingers swept into my hair while his other hand settled on my waist.

“Kiss me,” he whispered, pulling my mouth closer to his. “Please.”

My tongue darted between my lips, my heart beating harder than it ever had. His hand along my waist roamed, the sweet caress easing me further into his lap. His nose nudged mine, our lips ebbing like an invisible force existed there, one we’d never come back from. The last barrier.

“Car—”

“Kiss me before I lose my mind, sweetheart.” The fingers in my hair guided me past that divide, and our lips collided. Heat waves coursed through my body as his arm wrapped around me, ridding any space left between us.

His kisses swept away from my lips, moving and gliding along my jawline, then down the sensitive skin beneath my ear. Thestrap of my dress eased down under his gentle touch, and my breathing instantly kicked up.

He reared back. “Is this okay?” His breaths were ragged, pupils blown as his face creased with concern.

“Yes. Don’t stop.”

His throat bobbed, and this time when our lips met, I ground down on his lap, my body seeking a friction I never knew could be desirable between two people. He moaned against my mouth, my name a desperate plea on his lips as I repeated the action.

Our kisses became sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues swiping, reaching for each other, trying to bring our bodies closer. He guided the other strap from my shoulder and pulled back, the same question in his eyes before—is this okay?