“I guess.” I shrug.
Her hand lands on my bicep and she lays her head on my shoulder. “The lightning’s pretty.”
“It is.”
She giggles again. “Sorry. I told you I get giggly.”
“I was counting on that.” I smile, smoothing her hair as the breeze picks up and blows it into my face.
She barks a quick laugh and wags a finger at me. “You just want in my panties.”
“That’s why I keep pouring the wine.”
She shoves my arm but continues giggling. “The Grants? I used to imagine myself as part of a family like that.”
“You were part of a family. I always thought your foster family was nice enough.”
She shrugs. “They were all right. I—I mean, a big family. A family that did everything together. A family who liked each other. They were friends, you know? The Grant boys, they actually liked being with each other.”
Thunder rolls in as I ask, “Your family didn’t like each other?”
Her gaze falls to her lap. “Not really. None of my families seemed to like each other. And they never liked me.”
A weight presses on my chest. “I’m sorry. I never knew.”
Her giggling returns, barely audible over the constant rumbling in the clouds. “No worries. I’m all grown up, which means I get to choose now. We don’t get to choose as children. But as adults, we get to choose.”
I clink my glass against hers. “True that.”
Jo’s buzzed smile widens. “You chose me.”
The realization that she’s right sets off alarm bells in my mind, pushing me to my feet.
I take the empty bottle from under my chair and hold it up as I stand. “I’m going to grab the next bottle.”
“We should probably go inside. That storm will be here any minute.” She pops up from her seat.
I step to go around her at the same time she moves, we bump into one another. Her head tilts backward, and her face lights as a crack of thunder swallows all other sound. A fat drop of rain lands on her cheek. I swipe it away with my finger.
Though the thunder steals my words, I say, “I did choose you.”
The next second, she’s in my arms. Her body is pressed to mine, lips inviting me in.
Her breasts heave against my chest as the sky splits with light and sound.
She gives.
I take.
EIGHT
Tyson picks me up. My legs wrap around his waist as he carries me into the house and through to my new bedroom. He drops me onto the bed and stands, staring down on me.
He licks his lips slowly, torturously. “Earlier, I said I had a confession to make.”
“Confession?”
He nods, a smile playing above the cleft of his chin.
“You weren’t the only one with a ridiculously huge crush in high school.” He whips his shirt off.
“What?” I push up onto my elbows, taking in his beautiful muscles, all the ridges and valleys thrown into sharp relief by the glow of the small lamp on my bedside table.
“This, right here?” Ty takes the hem of my top and drags it over my head. “I used to dream of doing this with you. All the fucking time.”
My first instinct is to cover my bra with crossed arms. “But—you never asked me out. You were always so rude to me.”
He unzips his pants and his erection jumps out, long and hard. “I didn’t deserve a sweet little thing like you. All innocent and virginal.”
Oh. Shit.
“You should know…”
He steps out of his jeans. His cock bounces with his movements, drying up the words on my tongue
My heart races, stumbling over its buzz from the wine.
His muscular thighs flex as he moves to where my feet hang off the edge of the mattress. His long fingers flick open the snap on my jeans, then he grabs the bottom of my pant legs and yanks them off, tossing them aside. He traces the ridge at the top of my foot up to my shin.
The sight of Tyson naked is enough to steal my breath. A small gasp gets trapped in my lungs for the longest moment as we take each other in.
He kneels and runs his mouth across my ankle. Just when I manage to pull in some air, he lifts my leg and laves his tongue behind my knee and along the inside of my thigh, sending alternating waves of heat and shivers through my body.
He chose me. Me.
Ty climbs onto the bed and tugs my bra down. My breasts flow over the top. He flicks his tongue across one nipple, followed by the other.
Suckling my breasts, he massages the base until I arch my back and push closer to him. He places a gentle peck on each puckered bead and moves south. He leaves wet kisses over my ribs and down to my navel.
Ty licks through the lace of my thong. I ball my hands into fists.
I should stop him. This is getting out of hand.