30. Dove #2
Before I could twist to face him again, his hand skimmed across the side of my neck, rousing tingles beneath his touch as his fingers found their way into my hair.
His large palm warmed the curve of my jaw, and he used it to guide my head until I was looking at him.
I blinked at how close he was now, leaning over the center console, his face only inches from mine.
“Was this what you wanted?” his voice was a deep, amused rasp, and I shivered, his words like invisible fingertips teasing over my body, coaxing a reaction out of me.
He stole my answer with a press of his lips to mine; first soft and tender, unbearably sweet, until it wasn’t.
Until he tilted my head with his hand, angling our lips so they slotted together perfectly, turning that gentle kiss into less of a give and more of a take.
The fingers along the back of my head tightened, threading deeper into my hair as he urged me closer, until I was meeting him halfway over the console.
He nipped at my bottom lip then immediately soothed it with his tongue, licking at the seam of my lips until they opened for him.
That quick jolt of pain shot a path downwards, until I was squirming in my seat, pressing my thighs tighter together to relieve the pressure growing between them.
Our kiss was a catalyst, jump starting us to exactly where we’d left off in that alley.
Even the simplest of touch, his hand in my hair, his blunt fingernails scraping delectably at my scalp as he maneuvered me where he wanted me, had my body lighting back up as if we’d never stopped.
Every pull of air into my lungs between his ravaging kisses came shallower and shallower, leaving me lightheaded and dizzy.
Or maybe that was what Josh was doing with his tongue.
My fingers twitched in my lap, curling and uncurling, until finally I allowed them to reach out and touch him—touch him like I’ve wanted to touch him all day, like how I’d been ready and willing to back in that alley if he hadn’t stopped me.
But once again, the moment my hands slide down his chest and flirt their way toward his waistband, he pulled back, his chest heaving with deep inhales that sent a surge of want through me so powerful I shook from it.
I did that to him , I thought headily. Just from a kiss.
“No,” I whimpered out as he removed his hand from my hair, careful not to catch or pull on the strands entangled in his grip. “Please.”
He caught my hands in his as they reached out to pull him back in, then laid his forehead against mine.
For a moment, we caught our breath together, staring into each other’s eyes.
In that moment that seemed to span a lifetime, our heartbeats synchronized, and I realized I was so deep in love with this man there was no way I was crawling out of it.
Not that I ever wanted to. My love for Josh was a well I’d gladly fallen into, even when he’d never known I was drowning in its depths.
Staring back at me, his dark eyes were even darker with want, and perhaps something else, something deeper and far more meaningful.
I wondered if he saw it mirrored back in mine.
“Dove,” my name whispered from his lips had heat curling low in my stomach. “I’d love nothing more than to keep going, but the last thing I want to do is rush this.” His hands encircled my wrists, his thumbs swiping back and forth over my fluttering pulse. “We have all night.”
He brought one of my wrists up to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to it, his eyes locked on mine.
Before the words maybe I want to rush this fell out of my mouth, he was gone, the interior lights illuminating the space and jolting me out of the moment as he opened his door and slammed it shut behind him.
With a frustrated groan my hands dropped back into my lap as he rounded the front of the car, striding toward my side so he could help me out.
I ran my hands through my hair and hoped it didn’t look too disheveled given everything it had been through in the last hour. How many times were going to start this only to stop?
“You know, I’m really not into edging,” I informed him as he held my door open for me and I slid out of the SUV, stepping down into the slightly overgrown grass. I made a mental note that one of us should come down here and mow soon.
The laugh that punched out of him sounded half amused and half surprised. “And you know about edging how?”
I lifted my shoulder in a half shrug and let my sly smirk speak for itself, reminding him I wasn’t that same inexperienced girl he left behind.
Maybe not wholly experienced, admittedly, but enough to tease him.
His dark eyes sparkled a golden color in the waning light, the color of raw honey and just as sweet.
With the rays of the setting sun peeking through the tops of the trees, it only succeeded in making him look even more deliciously tempting.
I turned away, because looking at him did nothing to quell the need that coursed through me, creating a deep throb that had me pressing my thighs together subtly to alleviate it.
“Maybe you just haven’t been edged properly,” he purred in my ear, crowding up against my back as he shut the car door with a muted thud. The confident step I’d been taking away from him faltered as my foot teetered on a rock and my ankle rolled.
“Woah.” Josh caught and righted me effortlessly. Slipping his arm around my shoulders, he brought me in close under his arm. “I’ve never made a girl swoon before.” He sounded pleased and smug. Too smug.
I batted his chest at his teasing, ignoring the firm muscle under my hand, but he only chuckled before planting a kiss to the top of my head.
Thank God he had me in his grip because that sweet, small gesture almost had me melting into the ground.
I melted further as he kept me firmly in his grip, making sure I didn’t trip again as he guided me toward his truck across the clearing.
Before I could hop up on the tailgate, his hands curled around my hips and all but lifted me up to help me sit down on it.
Ignoring how I could still feel his hands there even after he’d let go, I reached out to run a finger along one of the corners of a blanket that had been laid out. “What’s all this for?”
He was rummaging around in the basket. I watched with curious eyes as he pulled out a bottle of champagne.
“Because we haven’t gotten to be just Josh and Dove in a long time.
” He began untwisting the metal wire from around the top of the cork.
“And this used to be the spot where we could just be ourselves.” The champagne popped loudly as Josh opened it, making sure the cork didn’t go flying into the grass.
It reminded me of those moments in movies when people cheered afterwards, celebrating life, or a new job, or something monumental.
Being here in this moment with Josh, just us and the lake to keep our secrets, certainly felt momentous enough to celebrate.
He presented a flute glass from the depths of the basket.
With a satisfied grin, he held it out to me.
The stem of the glass was delicate and slim, and I pinched it gently between my calloused fingers.
I wasn’t the champagne drinking type but tell that to the butterflies that were going nuts in my stomach.
Once the glass was in my hand, he bowed slightly, clearing his throat to ask, “Champagne, miss?”
I burst out laughing at how ridiculous he sounded with the fake posh accent and my loud guffaw echoed throughout the clearing, startling a flock of birds into flight from a tree in the distance.
He kept up his charade despite my laughter, cradling the neck of the bottle with two fingers as his palm carefully tipped the champagne over into my glass with a concentration that told me he’d definitely googled that bit of information for this moment.
My heart swelled at the idea of him learning something new just to make me happy.
After my glass was filled, he broke character, chuckling as he poured for himself, his palm wrapped around the neck of the bottle without finesse.
He clinked the rim of his flute to mine, then took a hearty swallow.
I took a tentative sip. The champagne was sweet and bubbly on my tongue, and I immediately knew we’d be finishing off that bottle by the end of the night.
Something niggled at the back of my mind. It had since I’d spied the rippling water’s edge of the lake. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything,” he replied without hesitation. There went my heart again, melting like chocolate on a hot summer’s day.
“If this spot was ours…” I wavered, nerves grabbing hold of me.
As much as I wanted an answer, I was afraid of what it might be.
This spot, the precious time I’d spent here with Josh, it had meant everything to me.
I wanted it to mean everything to him , too.
I steeled myself, ignored my apprehension, and carried on, “Then why did you invite everyone else to it?” I hid behind my glass, taking another sip.
He tensed. “What?”
“The parties we had here,” I elaborated, unable to keep the words spilling from my lips.
“ You’re the one who started those. If this spot truly meant as much to you as it meant to me, why’d we stop coming here together?
Why’d we stop hanging out altogether?” By the end my voice was a hurt whisper.
Those Friday nights that used to be for us flashed back in my mind.
I’d never expressed to Josh how badly I missed it, back when it had just been him and I vegging out in the living room, or how we’d sometimes escape and come down here instead, trading the glare of the television for the shine of a starry night sky.