Page 32 of Riding the Line (Willow Ridge #2)

Black, paint-matted hair falls around us like curtains, creating a barrier against all the rational reasons why we shouldn’t be lying here, her straddling my thigh, my fingers now trailing over her hips almost instinctively.

My fingers splay out possessively, giving in to that impulse that screams mine, mine, mine when I’m holding her.

Better to give in to that impulse than the one that wants to start grinding my hips against her.

Cherry’s gaze flicks between my eyes and lips once.

Twice. The long column of her throat working on the third glance.

I dare myself to let my gaze wander to her lips too, tracing the heart shape, smiling at the blue paint bisecting her full bottom lip.

Then, I dip down to the rest of her body straddling me, noting once again how every inch of her seems so perfectly crafted.

Especially those goddamn long legs that I could happily die between.

With the paint dappling her skin, it only reminds me further that I’m holding a masterpiece of a life in my hands, a woman who deserves to be idolised.

When Cherry’s mouth parts, a soft breath shuddering out and cutting through the electrified silence, I’m suddenly all too aware of my heart rattling against my chest. The pulse point on her neck fluttering.

My cock throbbing in my pants, like it’s completely forgotten that it got squashed not thirty seconds ago.

Her teeth graze her bottom lip. And then she goes and asks, ‘Kissing your best friend’s little sister. For or against?’

I wait for the alarms to start blaring in my mind … but only my need sounds. To feel her, to taste her, to be all-consumed by her.

Wild eyes flick between mine, searching.

When was the last time you did something big just for you? When did you last let yourself have something you wanted without worrying how other people would feel?

Her words echo in my mind, and for the first time in what has felt like forever, they make me want to say fuck it .

My voice is ragged as I admit, ‘For, Cherry. I’ve always been for.’

And with that, I surge upwards and capture her lips with mine.

One hand sifts through her hair, the other gripping tight to her hips to keep her flush against me as I bring us into a seated position, her gasp filtering into my mouth as I do.

But she doesn’t pull back, and the tenseness of her body lasts barely even a second before she’s grabbing onto my shoulders for dear life.

She uses their solid expanse as leverage to rock herself further into me, returning the kiss with an unexpected, wild fervour.

Fireworks explode throughout my body, sparkling along every inch, awakening me to a point of aliveness I didn’t think possible.

Firework kiss – tick.

Her eager kiss hits me like a strong mouthful of whiskey – the sweet taste of her sears through my body, awakening every one of my nerves, while the warm flavour floods me with calm.

With every inch I give her, Cherry takes a mile, increasing the pressure and speed of our kiss like she’s been starved.

Like if she doesn’t drink me up now, she’ll lose me forever.

Like she has no idea that I’d happily give her all of me until the day I die.

It only makes me want to prove that with my mouth.

A tentative brush of my tongue against the seam of her lips has her opening her mouth immediately, her nails digging into my shoulders when our tongues collide.

The breathy moan that escapes her lips in response is music to my ears, making all the hairs on my body stand.

It urges me to slide my fingers through her glossy, albeit slightly knotted hair, and wrap it around my palm so I can use it to help angle her head back further.

‘Is this okay?’ I quickly break our kiss to check, and she nods, lips crashing back into mine. ‘I need words, Cherry,’ I murmur against her mouth.

‘Ugh, yes,’ she groans, all bratty, like I’m so terrible for keeping her from kissing me properly because I want confirmation that she’s happy with how I’m touching her.

It only makes me tug her hair harder, allowing me to take her mouth deeper, that moan bubbling up from her throat again and going straight to my already painfully hard dick.

The one that’s turned my sweatpants into a goddamn tent.

Hands now fisting my T-shirt, Cherry tries to pull herself closer, the heat of her radiating into me.

With her breasts pressed against my chest, fire sparking at every point of contact between us, I take her bottom lip between my teeth.

Her hips buck against me in reaction, legs squeezing around my thigh.

Every thought I’ve ever had about trying to keep a barrier between us goes flying out the window and I want nothing more than to rip our pants off and feel her sweet pussy grind against my thigh.

I swipe her silky hair to the side, and drop my lips to her neck.

‘You should tell me to stop,’ I whisper against her skin.

‘Please don’t stop,’ she moans back.

Savouring the taste of her, not even caring about the paint splattered over her skin, I run my tongue along the column of her throat, feeling out her quickening pulse.

Cherry rewards me with a breathy moan, grinding against me once more.

Her eyes flash as I bring my lips away to catch her gaze.

Like she’s shocked at the pleasure she gets from the friction between our bodies, and her need for me.

Desperate to hear more of those delicious sounds, I plant kisses up her neck again until I get to the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

Then, I give her earlobe a soft nip. To my delight, with another sweet whimper, Cherry rocks herself against my thigh again.

I want to tattoo every sound she makes on my body so that I never forget them.

So that I can replay each one over and over and over again in my head, drowning myself in the ecstasy of her pleasure.

Cherry angles her head to start kissing my neck too, the touch of her lips against my skin sending fire coursing through my veins.

But then she sputters and rears back to wipe the thick smudge of paint away from her lips. It only drags it across her face, her mouth still painted blue, along with her cheek now.

‘Sorry,’ she giggles innocently, licking her lips – which are full and puffy from such rough kissing – and then winces. ‘I have so much paint in my mouth.’ Cherry sticks her tongue out, and it’s covered in blue. A grimace takes over her face as my laugh rumbles in my chest.

I wipe away the paint covering her bottom lip with my thumb, savouring the feel of her soft mouth. The mouth that tasted like fucking heaven . With a sigh – because the last thing I want right now is to stop kissing her – I suggest, ‘I think maybe we should get cleaned up.’

I’ve spent the last couple of years adhering to all these boundaries keeping me away from Cherry, but now, I’m done with them.

I don’t want anything to get in the way of giving her the pleasure she deserves.

So, if that means stopping to clean away all this goddamn paint, so my mouth can run freely over her body, then that’s what we’ll do. It can’t end here.

Cherry’s grip on me loosens suddenly, and she blinks, looking around the barn as if she forgot where we were. Hell, I know I did. ‘Right.’ A titter trickles out of her. ‘Probably a good idea.’

We both sit there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, unmoving, until I finally shift and say, ‘Come on. Let’s go get you in the shower.’