Chapter 5
Tucker had thought a lot of things about this day in February over the years. That it was cursed. That it was a weight he’d carry forever. That it was cruel to keep expecting any kind of light to shine through something so heavy.
He had not expected it to feel like this—his chest so full of hope and heat he could hardly breathe.
Ginny sat across from him, her face open and brave. Every word she’d spoken echoed like a bell in his ribs. This is what I want. You. This night. Us.
He was already halfway gone.
“Ginny,” he said quietly. “I hear you. I do. But if we take tonight, I don’t want it to end in hurting you worse.”
Her lips quirked. “Because you’re not living here? Not able to be my full-time boyfriend?”
He opened his mouth to explain, but she beat him to it.
“I’m not looking for promises of forever. I’m looking for warm hands and hot kisses and to be able to turn my brain off for one goddamned minute this day and think about— No. Not to think at all because you’ve got me so off-kilter all I can do is feel.”
Tucker’s heart kicked once, hard enough it felt like a warning. But it sure as hell didn’t stop him.
“Are you going to tell Dare?” he asked. “Am I supposed to tell Luke?”
Ginny's eyes softened, but the heat in them never wavered. “That’s up to you. But I’d suggest we’re adults. What we do is our business and no one else’s.” Then a wicked sparkle danced across her face. “Also, Luke will beat you up. I don’t want that on my conscience.”
Tucker huffed. “He’d try.”
Their smiles met and held, full of history and something new stirring just beneath it. It was right—laughter and anticipation, sexual tension braided with friendship.
“I’d tell Dare someday,” Ginny said, voice quieter now. “But not tonight or any time soon. Tonight is for us. Here and now.”
He stood and offered her his hand. “Then here and now starts with this.”
She took it without hesitation.
Tucker helped her off the bunk and pulled her to him, slow and sure. Her body settled against his as if it was always meant to. He lifted his hand to her cheek, brushing a thumb along her jaw before he bent and kissed her—gently, reverently, just once.
A soft, impatient noise rose from the back of her throat, and she grabbed the collar of his shirt. “You said yes to warm hands and hot kisses,” she whispered.
He grinned against her mouth. “I always keep my promises.”
The second kiss melted them both. She opened for him with a soft sigh, and he took his time. Tasting her. Stroking his hands down her back. Letting her clutch his shoulders as if he were the only reason she didn’t fall over.
And then—because he wanted this to be good, so damn good—he pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. “You set the pace.”
Ginny blinked, breathless. “You’re really putting me in charge?”
“I’ll follow orders until you tell me otherwise.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “In that case—less talking, more touching.”
He chuckled and obeyed, sliding his hands under her shirt, savouring the warm skin he found. When he reached the edge of her bra, she arched into him.
“Do you have any idea how much I like your boobs?” he murmured then bent to kiss her collarbone. “They’re perfect. Absolutely unfair.”
“You’re welcome,” she said with a laugh.
He eased her shirt over her head, kissing every new inch of exposed skin. The flush in her chest, the swell of her breasts—God, he could spend a lifetime exploring. She wasn’t posing. Wasn’t pretending. She just was. Real and open and beautiful.
“Top ten best things I’ve ever seen,” he whispered reverently as he nudged the bra up and kissed along the curve of her breast.
She laughed again, delighted and surprised. “Only top ten?”
“Well, I might need to test drive them for a while to be sure,” he said and ran his tongue across her nipple until she gasped.
She shoved at his shoulder, mock outraged. “You’re impossible.”
He dropped them both onto the bunk, her laughing, him grinning, and the two of them tangled together in an awkward, glorious heap.
“Hey!” she squeaked as he hooked his fingers behind her knees and ran his fingertips down her bare calves. “What are you doing?”
“Testing a theory.” Because this was Ginny, and the thing between them was fire and heat yet still family in all the right ways. Which meant this too was as necessary as breathing.
“What theory?”
“That your feet are still ticklish.”
“Don’t you dare—Tucker Stewart!”
She shrieked as he tickled her arch with one wicked finger, holding her down to enjoy the sensation of her whole body squirming under him. Childish memories turning into adult delight as every brush together lit his desire hotter.
Laughter burst free. “Stop, stop—okay, okay, mercy!”
He stilled immediately, grinning at her, all flushed and breathless. “That was satisfying.”
“You’re evil.”
“I’m motivated.”
Her smile gentled, and she reached for him, threading her fingers through his hair. “Then show me.”
Tucker stripped her slowly, worshipfully, one layer at a time. She helped him—unhurried, unashamed. Her hips rolled against his hands, her laughter quieter now, replaced with breathy little gasps and the occasional whisper in his ear that nearly undid him.
He undressed only enough to stay grounded—this wasn’t about him right now, but God, her hands on his torso were wicked pleasure.
When she lay before him, bare and golden in the low light, he ran a hand down her side, fingers reverent.
“I want you to feel everything,” he said softly. “And I want you to know—this is because I want you. Not as a distraction. Not as an escape.”
Ginny looked up at him, her eyes dark and unguarded. “Then make me feel, Tucker.”
So he did.
He kissed his way down her body, slow and thorough. He paused at her breasts, letting his tongue trace circles that made her arch. He buried his face against them, savouring every curve, every sound she made.
Then lower.
Ginny cried out softly as his mouth found her sex. Her thighs tensed, her fingers threaded through his hair, her back arched. He didn’t stop. Not when she begged, not when she whispered his name.
“Goddess. You’re so gorgeous.” He used his fingertips to stroke with slow, teasing precision, then slipped two fingers inside her, the rhythm building in time with his tongue.
The sounds she made echoed in the trailer until he was hard and aching and so turned on he was ready to explode without a single touch.
When she finally shattered, it was with a sob and a laugh, her body trembling under his hands.
Tucker rested his forehead against her belly, one arm wrapped around her waist. His head was spinning. Hopefully she was as off-kilter as he was.
“Stars?” he asked, the word coming out breathless.
“Whole galaxies,” she whispered. She stroked her fingers through his hair gently once, twice, then tightened her grip so she could angle his head toward her. “Your turn.”