Dropping The Ball - A New Year’s Billionaire Romance - Weston Parker Page 0,37

we’d walked home, arms laden with every dress she hadn’t gotten around to trying on in that dressing room, but there was also a hint of something else there. Dreams. Hopes. Lust?

Whatever it was, it was something I’d forever associate with her. When we’d first kissed just a couple of hours ago, it’d been seared into my memories along with everything else about her, and I was addicted.

If I’d thought I was screwed before, it was a million times worse now. My cock was so hard I was willing to bet I’d be able to drive nails into a wall with it. Everything about her, from the way her lips moved against mine to how incredibly fucking soft she was in my arms, sucked me right the hell in.

It was almost impossible to believe she was the same girl I’d wanted all those years ago and had all but forgotten about until she’d crashed back into my life. At the same time, I knew it was her because I felt the deeper connection between us.

Kisses like this didn’t come from knowing a person for less than week. Something crept into the back of my mind, a fleeting thought that there was something I still had to tell her.

Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll remember later.

She rolled her hips against mine, and I lost even the will to try to remember what I had to tell her. Moving my hands down to her thighs instead, I lifted her against me and carried her to the kitchen counter.

Something clattered when I put her down, but I didn’t stop to check what it was, and she didn’t seem to be too worried either. Her fingers twisted into my hair as she turned her head to give me a better angle.

The height of the counter put me right against her core when I stepped between her legs, her heat on me despite the layers of fabric between us. I moaned into her mouth when I ground my length against her, not even caring if I ended up fucking raw from rubbing against denim after my head popped free of my underwear.

She held me closer, kissing me harder as she tilted her hips up to angle them how it felt best to her. Almost immediately, her legs wound around my ass and her muscles started quaking as she pressed herself as tightly against me as she could.

“Oh God, Carter,” she said, her voice breathy and shaking. “Fuck. That feels so good.”

As if hearing my name coming out of her in a voice like that had dumped a bucket of water straight from the Atlantic over my head, all the reasons why this was a terrible idea flooded back into my brain. I knew she was seconds away, and if I was being honest, I wasn’t far behind her, but I had to put a stop to this.

Forcibly jerking my hips back, I gave her hips a gentle squeeze before slowly ending the kiss. When our lips separated, I pressed one last, soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “No going over the line, Rylee. We just can’t.”

Our labored breaths mingled in the air, and when I noticed how swollen her lips were and how dilated her pupils were, I almost decided to toss the whole stopping plan in the “fuck it” bucket. But I couldn’t.

Bart. Billy. The rules. The lie. Those were all the things between us, and I couldn’t let this get out of hand until I told her.

She pouted but eventually inclined her head and gave me a sheepish smile. “I know. I understand. I’ll work on behaving. Maybe. Let’s get back to cooking. Just no more talking about any of this tonight anymore then either, okay?”

Guess I walked right into that one. Luckily, I wasn’t exactly in a hurry to tell her. A lot of things could happen once I did, and while I knew I had to, I just wanted to enjoy as much time with her as I could first. Maybe I could get just one idyllic night before it all went to shit. Probably.

“Fine, but I do still need to talk to you.”

“You will. Just not about anything that’s going to make me want to kiss you again. Or think about kissing you.” She pierced the ceiling in a glare before hopping off the counter and walked around me, giving me a wide berth. “Carter, Carter, Carter. What am I going to do about you, huh? It shouldn’t