22. Josh
JOSH
S eeing Dove come apart under fingers and tongue was the hottest thing I’d ever witnessed in my life.
A thousand times I imagined this. A thousand times I hated myself for imaging this.
I couldn’t find it in me to condemn myself for wanting this. Not right now. Not with her taste so heady on my tongue, with her pretty cheeks flushed and her beautiful ocean eyes glassy.
She looked debauched , and I’d hardly touched her. Barely scratched the surface of what I wanted to do to her. God, I wanted her under me. I wanted her over me, sitting on me and taking . I’d willingly drown, suffocated by the essence of her. I wanted her anyway I could have her, and then some.
It was obvious how much I desired her, with the thick line of my throbbing cock evident through my jeans, but I ignored it. I ignored how much I wanted to slide her down onto me and show her what a real man could give her—unlike that asshole from last night.
But I didn’t say or do any of that, even though I wanted to whisper it in her ear, a secret and a promise all in one.
Instead, I kept it in, didn’t let it fall from lips that still bore the taste of her, because I could see the panic rising in her eyes.
The realization of what we’d just done hitting her as the haze of her orgasm faded.
As I slowly slide my fingers out of her, I kept my focus on her as she squeezed her bright eyes shut and bit on that plump bottom lip.
It was so swollen and red, tempting me. I couldn’t help but lean in and capture it, settling deeper between her splayed thighs, pressing my aching dick into the grill of my truck. She looked so fucking sexy spread across it, just like I knew she would.
“Josh,” she panted. “We?—”
“Need to talk,” I murmured against her lips. “I know.”
My mouth moved on its own accord to nip at her jaw line.
“No. I mean, yes, we do, but—” Her eyes glanced behind me worriedly. “Maybe we should move somewhere less…open.”
“Oh.” I glanced over my shoulders at the sun shining through the wide-open bay doors.
Shit.
I wasn’t too worried about it. We’d have heard anyone coming down the drive, and the garage wasn’t facing the road.
But still, it was a risk we shouldn’t have taken.
A risk I shouldn’t have taken. Not with her.
The last thing I needed was for the whole town to know.
Not when this— us —was so new and fresh.
I eased Dove off the hood, kneeling as I helped her back into her underwear and shorts.
She wobbled unsteadily, her skin flushing redder with embarrassment when she had to grab my shoulder for balance.
I attempted to hide my smirk at the ego boost as I rose, but she saw it anyway, shoving me before buttoning her shorts. I wisely held in my laughter.
“Don’t say a word,” she threatened, adjusting her top and hair, sounding just like the Dove I knew once more. Bossy.
I held my hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going to say a thing.” I wasn’t, but oh how I wanted to.
She scoffed skeptically with a roll of her eyes, and for a minute, it felt normal between us. Then her focus shifted to my hand, the one that had been inside her, still lightly glistening with her release.
Unable to help myself, I inched the hand to my lips, enjoying the disbelief blooming across her face.
Delicate fingers wrapped around my wrist, stopping me.
“Don’t,” Dove begged, her face pinking once again. She’d always blushed so easily. Especially for me, it seemed.
I’d done it to tease her. Well, mostly. Her taste was still on my tongue, tart and sweet, like the first bite of a ripe apple, and I was addicted now. I felt no shame in licking every last drop of it off my fingers.
But the look on Dove’s face was just that. Shame .
I’ve always played the role of big brother, protecting Dove from anything that could hurt or harm her and making it disappear. But I didn’t want this to go away. I didn’t want to shove what we’d done into the back of our minds and move on.
So instead of pretending as if what we just did never happened, I bent down until I could inhale that damn strawberry shampoo of hers and breathed against the curve of her ear. “I’ve already had a taste, Dove. What’s one more?”
Her body trembled and her breath hitched audibly, but still she pulled away from me, putting distance between us. It hurt, a shot straight to the heart, but I didn’t let it show on my face.
“Don’t, Josh,” she ordered, shaking her head. “Just… don’t. We can’t do this.”
The hope I harbored in my chest died as she turned away, but I was sick of not having what I wanted. I was sick of letting everyone else tell me what I could and couldn’t have.
Dove wanted this. I wanted this.
Why couldn’t we have it?
She gasped in surprise when my hand locked around her wrist to tug her back toward me, bringing her so close our chests brush.
“Stop running, Dove.”
“Running?” She snorted, flashing me a fiery look. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
I ignored her, although she wasn’t wrong. I had run from her. Even if I thought I’d been doing what was best, I’d turned tail and left her. Something I’d never forgive myself for.
“You can’t run from this.” I trailed my hand from her wrist up to the inside of her elbow. My thumb swiped back and forth at the skin there as I murmured, “Let me explain, Dove. Please.”
She sighed, a soft, indulgent sound as if the mere touch of my thumb was pleasing to her. I wondered how long it had been since someone had touched her. I wondered if anyone had ever touched her like this before, like she was precious and treasured.
There was nothing more I wanted to do than show her she was my everything. I just had to convince her to let me first.
Slowly, I wound an arm around her waist, keeping her close. The fact she didn’t immediately brush me off was a small victory.
“Do you remember the night of your graduation?” I heard myself ask, the question leaving me quietly, as if someone, somehow might overhear us, despite being the only two for miles.
Her eyes met mine before they flitted away. “Some of it.”
“Do you remember coming home that night?”
She kept her gaze stubbornly downcast, but answered honestly, “I remember being dropped off.”
I was almost afraid to ask my next question, but I had to know. I had vowed never to bring this up, to never admit to something that had shamed me so greatly it had lost me my family—had lost me her —but things were different now.
For years, I’d been convinced Dove was drunk that night. That her request for me to kiss her was off the wall, fueled by alcohol, teenage hormones, and cloudy judgment. That it couldn’t be anything more than that.
But now…
I needed to know the truth.
Steeling myself for whatever answer she was about to give me, I bite the bullet and asked, “Do you remember anything else from that night?”
Dove swallowed, the line of her throat working as she worked to answer. “I?—”
She paused, then shook her head, gaze still not meeting mine.
I knew Dove better than I knew myself, and I knew when she was lying. The knuckles of my hands brushed her biceps as I traced them up until I could wrap my hands around her throat, cupping her jaw gently to guide her eyes to mine.
They were as deep as the ocean and just as vast, glistening with unshed tears. Eyes that couldn’t lie, not when they held the truth hidden within their depths.
“I want the truth, Dove.” I leaned down to place a kiss on the corner of her mouth, pulling away when she swayed closer. “It’s important.”
“I—” Her voice shook. “I asked you to kiss me.” Her blue eyes gleamed with emotion as she whispered vulnerably, “You didn’t, though.”
“No,” I agreed, clearing the hoarseness from my throat before I continued honestly, “But I wanted to.”
“You did?” Her surprise was apparent, which surprised me. I thought I’d been so obvious that night.
Clearly, I had been. Just to the wrong person.
I nodded. “Gareth caught me.”
Her eyebrows drew together adorably, creating a tiny crease in the middle of her forehead. “Caught you doing what?”
“Entertaining the thought of kissing you.”
My thumbs brushed the corners of her lips as the truth I’d locked tightly inside me for years broke free.
“I wanted to, Dove. God, I wanted to so bad, you have no idea, but you were drunk, and it was wrong. I couldn’t take advantage like that.
” I sighed, dropping my forehead to hers.
“I wanted to lean down and finally figure out how you tasted so badly, baby, because I had wondered for so long.”
“You could have,” she whispered. I shook my head against hers. I really couldn’t have.
“Why did you leave?” The question held the slightest tremor. “Is it because I-I asked?—”
Her voice trembled with guilt , of all things, and I reared back to look down at her sternly. “It had nothing to do with you, Dove. It was on me.” More than that, though. “It was on my father.”
Ever argumentative, Dove demurred, “I was the one who asked.”
“But I was the one who knew better.” I pushed back a few loose pieces of hair around her face.
“Gareth saw me in that moment, contemplating taking what didn’t belong to me, and made it clear he didn’t want his sick, disgrace of a son calling his farm home any longer.
He was afraid I’d ruin his relationship with Josie, should she find out. ”
“My mom wouldn’t have?—”
I cut her off, knowing exactly what she was going to say. “You don’t know that, Dove. I’m your brother, I should have?—”
“ Step brother, Josh,” she corrected me firmly.
“You’re my brother by marriage only . We’re not blood-related.
My mom might not have understood it at first, but she never would have asked me to leave my home!
” She paused, taking a deep breath, then added accusingly, “I never would have willingly left you .”