a sprinkler system out here…we need to find it, and we’ll find the gnome.”
Dean and I spread out, walking around the perfectly manicured lawn and looking for any sign of a sprinkler system. My heart is racing at the thrill of a competition I can actually enjoy. I really should read one of Kate’s books. If she puts this much time and attention into her research, I’m sure they’re great.
“Found a gnome!” Dean hollers.
I shush him and rush over to where he’s standing by a big landscaped berm full of mums. I grab the clay gnome and look underneath it. “Find a dark corner and make out for three full minutes. Set a timer so you don’t cheat! Honor system is intact.”
Dean doesn’t miss a beat as he grabs my hand and pulls me across the patio to a stone cut out on the side of the house. My heels scrape against the flagstone pavers as he twirls me around to face him in the dark alcove. His tall frame is illuminated by the lights behind him as he sets the gnome down on the ground and fiddles with his phone to start a timer.
“You ready?” he asks, looking at me and shoving his phone in his pocket so his hands are free.
My chest rises and falls as I bite my lip and nod while silently praying he can’t hear how hard my heart is thumping inside my chest. The mixture of the competition excitement and the anticipation for what I know is coming later tonight collides and creates a heavy fog of desire in my lower belly.
My voice is raspy when I answer, “Ready.”
He steps closer, his warm body blanketing me as he braces a hand against the stone by my head and backs me against the wall. His eyes lock with mine, a whisper of a smile dancing in his gaze as he dips his head to my level. “Go,” he utters before he brushes his lips gently against mine.
He tastes like red wine, and that, coupled with the scent of his spicy cologne, has my toes curling in their boots. I splay my hands out on his chest and tilt my head as his lips move slowly, almost lazily, with no offer of tongue. My brows furrow as I wait for him to turn up the heat like he did in our bedroom last night. I may have been drunk, but I remember every single second of that kiss he planted on me.
It was a great kiss.
This is a whisper of what I know Dean is capable of. What’s he waiting for?
My lips quiver impatiently as I snake my hands up behind his neck and pull him closer. I’ve been through enough these past few days, and my stress level with the new bakery and franchise opening and especially my mother has me operating at a level ten. Which means I don’t want an appetizer or a sample platter kiss. I want a four-course meal of the man who’s been flirting endlessly with me for ages and who hours ago agreed to have sex with me.
My chest heaves as I crush my breasts against his hard body and thrust my tongue deep into his mouth. I turn us around so now he’s pressed against the wall and I’m in control of the kiss.
It’s been a year. A whole freaking year since a man has kissed me, and I need more. I’ve earned more.
Dean must get the memo because his hands grip tightly around my waist and a thrill shoots through my core as they rove up my back, and his tongue meets mine thrust for thrust—tasting, teasing, and demanding full reciprocation. My nipples tighten when his palms brush the sides of my breasts, and I can’t help but let out a little moan of hope.
I comb my fingers through his hair and fall deeper into this feverish moment as he grabs my leg and pulls it onto his hip, causing my hemline to ride up as he thrusts his groin between my thighs. The thin fabric of my silk panties offers no protection against the rough texture of his denim, and the friction is delirious. My pelvis develops a mind of its own, and I feel myself grinding against him in small, thrusting motions.
Good God, I’m losing my mind right now. Rachael was right. My battery-operated toys are no match for some genuine hip action.
Dean’s other hand drops, and he grabs my ass and pulls me up