On the Slopes of Tahoe (Love Along the Way #2)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Breck

T he tug of Rory’s lips on my knuckle sends a shock wave through my entire body. She looks up, dark lashes fluttering, soft strawberry-blonde hair framing her face and floating around her shoulders. The coy smile that lifts her brightly painted lips says she knows exactly what she just did to me.

I hold her eye contact and watch the color rise in her cheeks, the red there is a near match for the lipstick she’s wearing. Lipstick that stains my hand where she sucked off both the salt and juice, and I swear I can still feel the gentle pull. She bites her bottom lip and my jeans feel uncomfortably tight all of a sudden.

For fuck’s sake, Breck , I chastise myself, but it doesn’t do anything to change the rising desire in my body. Something I haven’t felt in a while.

The noise level in the bar increases around us, but I only see her. Rory . I wish it was only us, but the bar is exploding with people counting down the seconds to the new year.

45… 44… 43… 42…

I act on impulse, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the back of the bar where I see an emergency exit. She squeals a little in surprise, and I have to tamp down the feeling of pride.

30… 29… 28… 27…

I’ve taken a complete leave of my senses, pulling her out the exit. The door spits us out just inside an alley off the main drag through South Lake Tahoe. The alley is empty, though there are people scattered around the street, shouting the countdown.

8… 7… 6… 5…

I look into Rory’s too-bright eyes, a question in my own, and she reaches up to grab the front of my button-down. Taking that as my answer, I press her up against the brick wall of the building.

The first firework explodes above us, and I claim her mouth with mine .

The taste of her lips is euphoric. Her fingers find the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair. I grip her hip with one hand and twine the fingers of my other into her waves, tugging. Her mouth pops open in a gasp and I take advantage, allowing my tongue to slide against the seam of her lips. She tastes like tequila and lime, and the reminder of that moment makes me more insatiable.

The intensity of her answering kiss nearly knocks me backward. I graze my teeth along her bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth, wanting to leave it a little bit swollen, marked by me. A reminder for tomorrow. She moans and pulls me closer. I pin her more fully into the brick wall, and I can’t find it in myself to be embarrassed by how obviously turned on I am. If she notices, she doesn’t appear to care. If anything, she pulls me closer.

I grab her hand that’s tangled in my hair, pressing it above her head, and kiss my way down her neck. When I nuzzle over her collarbone, she moans again, her head falling to the side, giving me more space to work and permission to keep going. I feel the heat radiating off her body, and I want to be closer. I want more. I shift, pulling back from her neck, and press a knee between her thighs. Her half-lidded eyes snap to mine, illuminated by the fireworks popping off above us.

I hardly hear them, their loud cracks and booms. I can’t focus on anything but Rory. The gasping breaths, her heady moans. She shudders when I adjust my leg, and her eyes catch fire. I hold her gaze, fingers sliding down her side, skimming her ribcage. I stop to grip her hip, letting my thumb graze underneath the fabric of her sweater just like I did when we were dancing. When I thought this was only a bit of harmless flirtation.

We’re beyond that now, and I’m fucked. Because this is Rory . Only… I can’t bring myself to care. My mouth moves back to claim hers and my hand wanders lower, sliding along the edge of the little skirt she’s wearing. I slip my fingers just under the hem, along her thigh, and she whimpers against my lips. I can only imagine how soft her skin is underneath these tights. I need to find out.

Another firework explodes overhead, lighting up our secret space, and someone from the street yells, “Get a room!”

The moment breaks and I pull back suddenly, releasing Rory’s hand from over her head. My breathing is ragged and my heart beats a frantic rhythm in my chest. Rory looks wrecked too, her chest heaving where she leans against the wall. The finale of the fireworks show is a cacophony of noise and light that feels like too much right now.

My brain can’t settle on anything with the chaos ensuing around us. The only thing coming through in perfect clarity is that I just made out with my best friend’s sister. His only sister. His little sister. Dammit, what was I thinking? I run a hand through my hair and look at the ground.

Fuck. Wes is going to flip his shit when he finds out. Or… maybe we can keep this between us. Maybe there’ll never be a reason for Wes to know. This wasn’t supposed to happen—not just with Rory, but with anyone. Not now at least, and not in Tahoe.

My hand slides to the back of my neck and it awakens the memory of Rory’s hand there, tugging at the too-long strands. I lift my head to find Rory’s eyes are downcast. Is she wondering how in the hell we got here, pressed together in a dirty alleyway?

How the hell did we get here? This afternoon she was pissed at me and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get her forgiveness. Now I’m at a complete loss for how we move forward. We have to see Wes and Joss in the morning for brunch before they leave for their honeymoon. Can I even attempt to hide this from him? Will Rory want to, or will she tell him and let him eviscerate me?

“We should probably walk home. It’s late.” Rory draws me from my spiraling thoughts. She’s no longer looking at her boots and she’s sucked her lip between her teeth again. Heat licks at my chest, and I force myself to look away.

“Yeah.” My voice is hoarse. “Need to relieve the sitter.”

If nothing else will sober me, the thought of my daughter asleep back in our condo while I stand here panting after mauling Rory sure will.

“Breck?” Rory’s voice is quiet and timid, and her eyes have flicked back to the ground. Can she see the regret on my face? No, because I don’t regret it, not exactly. I’m honestly not sure what I’m feeling right now.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing,” she says, but I know it’s not nothing. “Let’s go.” She turns away, taking a step toward the street.

I reach for her hand, grabbing it tightly and making her face me. I push a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, then I run my fingers along her jaw until they rest at her chin and tip it up.

“It’s not nothing, Rory.” I hold her gaze, wanting to run my thumb over her bottom lip. It’s swollen, and damn does that do something to me.

“Are you going to tell Wes?” She straightens her shoulders, a hint of defiance snaking through the uncertainty.

“Do you want me to tell him?”

“No. I don’t. Is that going to be a problem for you?” Her voice is steady, the fire she hit me with in the gondola coming back.

“If it’s not a problem for you, then it’s not a problem for me. He doesn’t need to know our personal business.” A hint of a smile lifts the corner of her lips and I relax my grip on her chin. She nods and steps back, my hand falling away completely. She grabs it and tugs me along toward the street and through the crowds of people.

Leaning down close to her ear, I whisper, “Happy New Year, Rory.”

The lights from the casino cast a bluish tint to her cheeks, but it’s not enough to hide her flush or her freckles that stand out a little more prominently. Damn, I really like those freckles. I like the way she smiles too when she says, “Happy New Year, Breck.”