Chapter 9
NINE
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
SHAUN
The words land between us, heavy and electric, and suddenly the music fades into the background.
Val studies me, her head tilted. The world slows to a crawl.
My gaze drops to her mouth and sticks there, like gravity decided to double.
Her lips part just slightly, like she’s about to say something or dare me to do it first. I forget how to breathe.
Forget the sun, the farm, the fact that we’re sitting in the open.
All I can think about is how close she is. How easy it would be to close that last inch.
She finally puts me out of my misery. “Okay.”
I swallow hard. Is she serious? I honestly didn’t think she would agree, but my body thrums with excitement. “You sure?”
She nods, just barely. “You asked, didn’t you?”
“I did. I just didn’t think you’d say yes.” My chest feels too full. Too tight. Part of me wonders if she’s messing with me, if forgiveness really comes that easy.
Her eyes flicker. Doubt slips in. “Do you regret asking?”
That does it.
I pull her closer, my hand gripping her neck, her jaw resting between my thumb and pointer finger. “I regret not kissing you that day in the library.”
Her hands come up and fist in my shirt before I can blink. Then she swings her leg over me and settles in my lap, close enough that my breath stutters. The world narrows to her weight, her warmth, the way her fingers curl like she’s claiming space she never should’ve had to ask for.
Her hair brushes my cheek, soft and warm, smelling like sun and vanilla and something that’s just her. My hands hover for half a second, unsure, then land at her waist, steadying us both.
Music hums in our ears, neither of us bothering to pull out a earbud, like the world outside doesn’t matter right now.
Val answers by skimming her lips over mine. “Prove it,” she murmurs.
That’s all the permission I need.
My hand comes up, slower now. Not calculated. Careful. I brush her jaw, trace her cheekbone, let my thumb rest for a second against the cool curve of her nose ring. Her breath stutters. I feel it against my mouth before I even kiss her.
When I do, it isn’t gentle.
It isn’t patient.
It’s everything I swallowed that day in the library.
Two years of restraint crack open at once. She tastes like mint and lemonade and sun, and I feel something inside me give way. Like I’ve been braced for impact since high school and I’m only now letting myself fall.
A tractor hums somewhere nearby. Corn rustles in the breeze. Garbage plays through our earbuds like the universe picked the soundtrack on purpose.
I pull her closer, one hand at her waist, the other fixed at her jaw like I’m afraid she might disappear if I don’t hold on. My shoulder aches, a dull protest, but I ignore it. Nothing matters but the way she responds. The way she leans in instead of away.
She makes a small sound against my mouth.
It wrecks me.
I break the kiss just enough to breathe her in. My lips trace along her jaw before I press a kiss over the pulse in her neck and feel it jump beneath my mouth.
“Val,” I breathe, her name rough on my tongue. I hold her there, forehead to hers, trying to calm the storm inside my chest. Both of us breathing hard, suspended in that charged second before everything tips too far. “Please, Val. Take what you want.”
Her eyes darken, and that look alone sends a spark straight through me. She answers with movement, grinding against me through denim like she knows exactly what it’s doing. A groan slips out of me before I can stop it. I catch it against her mouth and kiss her deeper.
Her rhythm is easy, like she’s learning exactly how much it takes to make herself unravel.
My hand slips under her shirt, palm flattening against warm skin. I pause there. Just feeling her. The heat of her. The way she arches into my touch like she’s been waiting for it too.
Her nipples peak under my fingers, making her moan in pleasure. Her body moves harder against mine now. Needy, no longer teasing. Her fingers twist in my shirt, holding me in place as the rhythm between us builds, unspoken and undeniable. When I pinch gently, she hisses my name like it’s a prayer.
It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard and I want to hear it again. As long as she will let me. My body aches, tight and demanding, but I stay right there with her, watching her come undone.
I slowly open her jeans, giving her time to tell me to stop.
She pauses, her eyes burning into mine. The warmth of her steadies me.
Once the zipper is down, she nods.
“Please.”
One word. One gift.
My hand slips between us, unhurried, giving her time to change her mind. She doesn’t. She leans into it instead, breath breaking against my mouth.
A groan slips out of me when I feel how ready she is. I move carefully, memorizing every sound she makes. Every gasp. Every shift of her hips.
“Oh, god.” She bucks, shifting closer, fingers digging into my shoulders like she needs me stable beneath her. I don’t push. I don’t rush. I just stay. Anchor. Give her something solid.
“You’ve got me,” I breathe. I press my mouth just below her ear and tell her the truth. “You have no idea how gorgeous you look right now.” How am I this lucky?
“Shaun,” she breathes, the word breaking apart in her mouth. “Don’t stop—”
Her forehead presses to mine. Our noses brush. The world narrows to breath and skin and the creak of the truck beneath us.
Her pace quickens as I hold my finger in place, giving her the control. I keep my eyes on hers. Every tremor that runs through her runs through me too.
Her hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers curling there like she needs something solid to hold on to. She closes her eyes, but I nip her jaw. Her eyes spring open instantly, the red in her cheeks deepening.
“Look at me,” I plead, my voice strained as I feel the first tremor roll through her and pulse around my grip.
Her breath breaks against my cheek, sharp and uneven, and her body tightens as the moment crests. I adjust, slow and deliberate, watching her pupils blow wide. She comes apart on a cry.
And that breaks me open in a way I didn’t expect.
When she trembles against me, I stay right there. Holding her through it. Watching her face. I don’t look away. I want her to see me there.
With her.
When she finally sinks back into herself, I keep my forehead pressed to hers, breathing her in, holding her like letting go isn’t an option.
I help her settle, careful and gentle, then draw her into me. She comes willingly. I rest my head against her, right where her heartbeat thunders, strong and fast, matching the rhythm of the song still playing in our ears.
“Guess that worked,” she whispers.
I laugh, breath still uneven, my voice muffled against her. “Yeah. That took my mind off things.”
She nudges my shoulder until I lift my head and look at her. Her eyes search mine, the green softer now, the sharp edges gone. “Want to keep our minds busy a little longer?”
My answer comes without thinking. “Hell. Yes.”
When she leans in again, she takes her time, enjoying the tease. I meet her halfway, drawn in without a second thought.
The kiss deepens into the kind that steals your breath and makes you forget where you are. She shifts closer, the tailgate creaking beneath us, and I slide a hand to her back, holding her there.
The music hums low in our ears. The corn rustles nearby. The world keeps moving without us.