“Come here and share that blanket with me.” He reached for her, opening the huge piece of fabric and wrapping them both up, skin to skin. “You’re like a sexy burrito.”
“What? Burritos are not sexy.” She laughed, squirming when he turned her around so her back was at his front. “They’re squishy and messy and…”
“Delicious, just like you.” He pressed his lips to her temple.
“Smooth talker,” she said, letting his warmth seep into her. “I might have to watch out for you.”
Trent could easily fill her head with tempting thoughts and dangerous ideas.
He walked her to the door while they were both still wrapped up, and it was awkward and funny and she laughed harder than she’d ever laughed before. “I feel like I’m in a sack race.”
“Stop whinging,” he said, nipping at her ear.
“Whinging?”
“Complaining,” he said with a teasing tone.
“Oh, you mean whining.”
“Nah, mate. We say whinging here.”
She giggled. “Mate.”
“You are a little cockatoo.”
Eventually he let her have the blanket and he strode outside to the back deck, his ass perfectly on display in tight black underwear. Peach indeed.
They cuddled up on an oversize wicker chair, which was padded with a big, comfy cushion. The roof out back, which Trent called a veranda, protected them from the rain. It was magical to watch the storm waging its war on the land. She climbed into his lap and draped the blanket over them both, his body protecting her from the chill in the air.
The clouds shifted, like God himself was blowing them across the landscape. When lightning flashed, illuminating all the shapes in the sky, Cora sighed. Even in brutal weather, this place was impossibly beautiful. As they sat, Trent’s hands roamed her body beneath the blanket, skating over her shin and her knee, tracing the inside of her thighs. Teasing her.
“Could this be any more perfect?” She sighed.
“This was what you wanted, huh?”
“A hot man and a thunderstorm? Hell yeah.” She laughed when he waggled his eyebrows. “I’m glad you ended up being here.”
The statement popped out before she had a chance to wonder whether it was telling too much, giving too much away. Instead of allowing him time to ponder what she meant—or let herself go into an anxious thought spiral—she turned to him, clasping his face with her hands and bringing his lips down to hers. He tasted like heaven, and the feeling of his strong, rough hands on her body made her want to float away. Taking her time and not rushing straight to what she’d been taught to view as the “finish line” was new. He seemed content to touch and taste and explore, learning her curves and what she liked. And she did the same, raking her nails down his chest and watching for the flare of excitement in his eyes. Shifting so she could reach down and palm the hard length of him through his underwear.
When she freed him, sighing at the feeling of him skin to skin in her hand, the blanket suddenly felt too hot. Shrugging, she let it slip down to her waist. The cool air peaked her already hardened nipples even further, and Trent’s hands came to her breasts.
“So good,” he said, his eyes rolling back as she stroked him.
She shifted in his lap, turning to straddle him on the big wicker chair. There was room for a whole football team on the damn thing, and she wanted to take full advantage of the space. “It’ll feel better when you’re inside me,” she said huskily.
“How did we go from ‘your butt looks like the peach emoji’ to that?” he teased, catching the edge of her mouth with his thumb and parting her lips. “Holy hell.”
“I guess I needed warming up.”
“You’re not warm, Cora. You’re making the sun look like a glacier.”
Who was this man? And who was she when she was with him—a siren? A seductress?
“I stand by it,” she said with a saucy shrug. “Your butt does look like the peach emoji.”
He laughed and splayed his hands over her thighs, his thumb stroking her tattoo etched into her skin. “And you don’t think you’re a butterfly yet?”
She looked down, her eyes catching on the ink that she looked at every day, reminding herself there was more to be done. “I’m a work in progress.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“I think I need more work than most people,” she said with a soft laugh.
“Here’s the conclusion I’ve come to,” Trent said, continuing to