Tequila Rose (Tequila Rose #1) - Willow Winters Page 0,56

a smirk. “Come here,” I say, giving her the small command, leaning back and gesturing with my hand. She’s slow to fold herself into my arms but she does. This time her cheek rests against my chest and her hand lays right in the center of it.

“Which one is a dahlia?” she asks me and my chest vibrates with a chuckle, stirring her.

“I have no idea, to be honest.” She smiles broader and I feel it. My smile widens too when she readjusts, sneaking closer to me until her leg is pressed against mine and my arm fully wraps around her back. “It’s the first flower name that came to me after Rose and Magnolia,” I say.

There’s a small bit of peace and stillness that rests between us. Her guard is still up when she tells me, “I really, really like you, but I mean it when I say she’s my whole world and that I don’t know what to do to protect her from this …”

All I can think is that this town is going to talk and judge. The animosity Magnolia got when her father screwed over this town is what she’s afraid of. Not the part directed at her, but in the way they’ll look at and talk about her daughter.

It’s all too heavy and all too much.

I confess the only thing I can think to admit. “I want to kiss you.”

She peeks up at me, her tired eyes glossy again. “Even still?” she asks. The pain and insecurity are raw and vibrant in her doe eyes.

“Even more seeing you like this.”

With my hand cupping her chin, I press my lips to hers, silencing all of that uncertainty.

She’s quick to deepen it and her slender fingers wrap around the back of my neck. What was peaceful turns hot in an instant.

I nip her bottom lip and peek down at her, her eyes still closed when I kiss her again. My tongue sweeps across the seam of her lips and she parts them for me, granting me entrance.

I’m hard and in need and there’s no way she isn’t in need too.

The sofa protests with a groan as I lay her down, never taking my lips off hers. My hands roam up her nightgown and it’s only then that she breaks our kiss, breathing heavily and whispering my name like a plea.

Please don’t deny me. For the love of all things holy, please don’t deny me.

“We have to be quiet,” is the only warning she gives me and I devour those sweet lips of hers and rush to undress us both.

Her hand is hot and full of the same need every inch of her is giving me as she slips her fingers up my shirt. With the scratch of her nails, the strokes of her tongue against mine and the gentle moaning, her desire and need meet my own.

It’s a cloud of lust and longing that unveils itself around us in the dark night in her living room. Her sofa groans as she lays down and I meet every inch of her movements with mine. Skin on skin, heat on heat, there’s nothing between us, nothing stopping us.

Raking my teeth up her neck I listen to the sweet gasp of pleasure that spills from her lips. Slipping my hand between her legs, I find her ready.

With the tip of my finger I gently play with her clit, loving how she writhes under me.

She begs and pleads, the arch of her foot pressed against my ass to push me closer to her.

“Brody, I want you,” she murmurs with lust laying over every word.

The spark in her eyes, the heavy rise and fall of her chest, and my name on her lips fuels me to let go of everything and all sense, and take her like I’ve wanted to.

With a swift movement, I thrust all of myself into her in a single movement. Her eyes widen, her bottom lip drops and her nails dig into my skin. She’s tight, so fucking tight.

Pain and pleasure swirl in her doe gaze and I wait for her body to relax, planting small kisses along her jawline. I take my time with them and when she’s finally able to breathe, I slow my motions and rock into her, stretching out her pleasure and loving how every time I fill her, she whimpers with lust.

“Brody.” Her whispers urge me to never let a moment pass where I’m not concerned with what she needs and how right