Never Sweeter(66)

“I think that was a triple negative.”

“Which makes it a positive again.”

“That’s not…I don’t think that’s how that…” He paused, half frustrated and half amused. Shook a playful fist at her. “Stop using grammar against me!”

“You started it with your triple-negative jibe.”

“I did not. You backed me into” he started, but he didn’t finish. Instead he took a calming breath, and restarted with a clearer purpose. “Okay, this is completely irrelevant to the point, which is: you obviously don’t want me to see or feel too much of you. And that’s ridiculous, considering how aroused I got over your bare leg like we live in nineteenth-century New Zealand and I stole your piano.”

She had to drop her folded arms a little for that.

And maybe put a bit of a moan into her voice when she replied.

“Ohhhhh, did you seriously just reference The Piano? Oh my god I just came.”

“Hell yeah I did, because I’m not a jerk who refuses to like movies that aren’t manly enough. I told you already I liked Dirty Dancing. The Piano is, like, a hundred times less embarrassing than that.”

“I dunno. Dirty Dancing doesn’t have Harvey Keitel’s penis in it.”

“Hey, I love Harvey Keitel’s peniwait, let me back that up.”

“No, don’t. Keep going. I might get turned on enough to just strip.”

“In that case, I regularly fantasize about being mounted by him.”

She laughed at that. Loud and long and so good that her arms were no longer folded by the time she was done. Somewhere in the middle of it she had leaned back on her elbows, in an almost relaxed sort of way.

And when he slid across the blanket and lay down beside her, she didn’t flinch.

“This was your evil plan all along, right? Get me laughing until I feel totally comfortable about being nude up here in front of you.”

“You bust me so hard, babe. So hard.”

“But you love it right?”

“I do love it.”

God he sounded sure about that.

And he looked sure, too.

That little half smile, the hint of a raised eyebrow, the softness in his gaze.

“Okay, I’m going to give you just one boob. I’m warning you though, they’re nowhere near as great as my clothes might make them seem.”

“By clothes do you mean the seventeen layers that disguise your boobs as a woolen shelf?”

“No, by clothes I mean shut up being a smart-ass if you want me to continue.”

Of course the second she’d said it she wanted to take it back.

Now there was just the sound of her own breathing.

And the sound of his breathing, as it got steadily heavier.

“You’ve gone all quiet.”

“I’m trying not to be a smart-ass. You need me to talk?”

“Yes, please. Say words. Fill this eerie silence.”

“Felt kind of less eerie and more intense and sexual to me.”

“To me, too, but I’m trying not to think about that while my elbow is caught in my sweater.”

“Would it help if I did this?”

He leaned over, careful not to disturb the delicate undressing she was still in the middle of. One hand on the side of her face, most of his body still in its own separate space.

And then he just touched his lips to hers.

Soft, achingly soft.

“Yeah. Oh yeah, that helps.”

“And if I were to just…give you a hand…”

“I guess that might be…that might be…” she tried to say, but her sentence just wouldn’t come together. It ran into trouble when he stroked over her bare back to help her slide her sweater off, and failed altogether the moment his gaze roamed over what she had revealed. She was just in her bra nowone that was fraying around the edges and had long since lost most of its pretty pale blue color. In fact, the kindest thing anyone could say about it was that it looked comfortable.

Though that wouldn’t have described his reaction the same way.

It seemed more like the bottom had fallen out of his ability to restrain himself. He said “Oh man” around seventeen times, eyes everywhere all at once. Tongue curled out to lick his upper lip, as though just imagining what her skin would taste like. Hands flexing and unflexing in a way that suggested he really wanted to cup something or stroke something or maybe squeeze.

She didn’t expect him to actually do it, however.

Or for it to feel as good as it did. He stroked down the slope of her breasts and ended in this almost rough sort of groperough enough that it should have bothered her. But it didn’t. Instead she got an intense reminder of how turned on she had been only a few minutes before. Her clit pulsed once, twice, nipples hardening under his desperate touch.