Fragile Hearts (Poplar Falls #4) - Amber Kelly Page 0,37

freezer. I have been out here on the porch for at least fifteen minutes before the door finally opens and she emerges.

“Hey,” she says as she presses her back against the closed door and watches me.

“Hey yourself. I was about to send a search party in for you,” I tease.

“I tried to splash water on all my sweaty parts, and then there wasn’t a towel, so I had to air-dry the best I could,” she explains.

“I thought you smelled a little better,” I rib her.

She looks up at that comment. “Oh, really? You don’t exactly smell like a bouquet of roses yourself there, Doc,” she playfully snaps back before coming forward and taking the tequila bottle from my hand.

“I didn’t think to pick up any mixers—or any glasses for that matter,” I tell her as she walks over and sits down on the railing.

She pops open the top of the bottle. “I guess we’ll just have to make do, then,” she says before throwing her head back and taking a huge swig.

I watch as the muscles in her slender neck ripple as she swallows. Then, she squeezes her eyes shut as the alcohol burns its way down. She opens them and looks at me as she wipes her lips with the back of her hand. Then, she extends the bottle out in invitation.

“This is probably a bad idea on empty stomachs,” I say as I walk over and take it from her fingers.

“Come on, Doc. Live dangerously,” she dares with a twinkle in her eye.

I decide to do just that, and I take a long pull from the bottle. My eyes never leave hers as I pass it back to her.

She glances over her shoulder and muses, “Looks like the sun is setting behind the mountains.”

I follow her gaze and take in her silhouette, bathed in the blaze of pinks and oranges, peppered with purple from the colors streaked across the sky behind her.

“Breathtaking,” I murmur.

She silently stares off into the distance as she continues to sip from the clear bottle.

Once the sun finally disappears, she breathes in a deep breath. She hops down from the railing and takes a seat on the concrete steps that lead up to the porch. Then, she looks back at me and pats the spot beside her.

I sit next to her, and she hands me the bottle. I take another gulp.

She lays her chin on my shoulder, and I peer down at her. Her eyes are glazed over, and she is studying me. I take another shot from the bottle and notice the liquor slides down my throat easily this time. Instead of burning, it warms my body.

Bellamy moves her hand to reach for the bottle and take her turn just as I raise it to offer. Her hand drops to my lap instead, and rather than pull it away, her eyes follow it down and she holds it in place. My cock twitches at her near brush, and her hand is a hairbreadth from feeling its reaction.

I hear her quick intake of breath, so I know she’s noticed.

I try to reposition myself to hide my body’s involuntary response when she lightly grazes my growing arousal with the back of her hand. I slightly buck up off the step at the contact.

“Bells,” I huff out hoarsely, and her eyes come to mine. Her big, beautiful stormy-blue eyes.

She opens her mouth to say something, but she doesn’t get the chance because, without thinking, I bring my hand to her chin and rub my thumb over her bottom lip. I bend my head and slightly brush my mouth against hers. Her eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t move.

I pull back as I drop my hand from her face and start to apologize, “I’m so—”

I don’t get the words out before she bears up and grasps my neck, pulling me back to her mouth.

All thought of an apology flies from my mind as she opens to the kiss, and her tongue darts tentatively against my lips. I part for her and then deepen our connection as I wrap my arms around her back and bring her body closer to mine.

She slides a leg over my hips and seats herself astride me without breaking our contact. It’s been so long since I was in such intimate proximity with a woman. My body takes over, and my hands slide down to the back pockets of her jeans. I clasp her ass and move her against me as she