CHAPTER TWO #2
She didn’t move away. Stayed right there, watching over my shoulder while I worked.
I didn’t crave the presence of anyone anymore, but with her it was different.
She wasn’t chattering, wasn’t filling the silence to manage her nerves.
Just — present. Paying attention. The kind of woman who watched how something got done so she could do it herself next time.
I was already planning to make sure she never had to.
“Where’d you learn to do this?” she asked. “I thought McAllisters were lumberjacks.”
“No, we’re jacks of all trades.”
She made a sound that might have been a laugh. “That almost qualifies as a joke.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
She did laugh then — low and warm and real. I felt it in places I had no business feeling it.
I finished the toilet repair and stood up, offering her a hand up.
She took it and I pulled her to her feet but didn’t let go right away.
Just held her hand in mine for one second longer than the situation called for and watched her notice.
I looked down at her and the rational part of my brain said back up, but the rest of me said fuck no.
“Kitchen faucet next?”
“Yeah. It might drip a little.” She held up her thumb and index finger, a tiny gap between them, but didn’t move away either.
“Let’s go see.”
She turned and started down the narrow hallway.
Her toe caught on a loose floorboard and she pitched forward.
I moved before she could even start falling.
One arm around her waist, hauling her back against my chest. Her hands locked around my forearm.
Both of us went still —her breathing fast, my face against the side of her neck.
My mouth touched the side of her throat and I inhaled deeply. She smelled exactly like I remembered.
She went still, her fingers digging into my forearm. “Did you just sniff me?”
“No.” I denied even as I took another deep breath.
“You just did it again, Colt.”
“Maybe,” I answered this time. “But in my defense, you smell good enough to eat.”
That had her breath catching. Was she imagining how that would feel? My lips on her wet pussy, tasting how much she wanted me? As any good military strategist would do, I pushed advantage. I closed in on the enemy.
Which meant I backed her up against the wall.
“I thought about the kiss, Charlie,” I said, caging her in with my arms. “All night. Did you think about me? About the kiss?”
“I said not yet.” She placed her hands against my chest but didn’t push me away.
“I heard you. But this isn’t collecting. This is a down payment.”
I knew I had pushed too far when she got the expression on her face. The one she had to use when a patron refused to leave at last call.
Her gaze searched mine.
Then to my surprise she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to mine.
Good girl, I thought, and something dark and satisfied settled inside me as I took over.
This wasn’t like the night before—that had been about winning a bet, proving a point.
Making her come apart in my arms. I intended to do that to her again when she was finally ready to say yes, but not now.
Not here. This was about letting her feel exactly what was coming, what I’d been thinking about, what I intended to do with her when she was finally ready to say yes.
Today, I took her mouth slowly. Traced my tongue along her lower lip, teasing — just learning the soft give of her mouth, the way she tasted underneath the coffee she’d had this morning.
When she made a frustrated sound and pressed closer, I rewarded her, sliding my tongue past her lips, deep and deliberate, thrusting the way I wanted to thrust inside her body — slow withdrawal, deeper return, setting a rhythm she couldn’t mistake.
She got it. Her tongue found mine immediately, hungry and a little desperate, her hips tilting forward against me without her meaning them to.
My good girl. She wanted it just as much as I did, her body already saying yes even while the rest of her didn’t know that was the answer she should give.
I grabbed that dark ponytail and pulled her head back, holding her still as I took everything I wanted from her mouth, swallowing the sound she made, tasting every corner of her mouth like I had all the time in the world.
When I finally lifted my head, her mouth was slick and swollen, looking thoroughly kissed.
Mine. The word came up from somewhere deep and immediate. I didn’t push it back down this time. I just didn’t say it out loud
I brushed my lips across her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her mouth and felt her shiver, a full body response she couldn’t stop.
“The things I’m going to do to you, Charlie,” I said against her ear, my tongue tracing the soft shell before darting inside. “When you’re ready. When you say yes and mean it.”
She made a sound. Small and helpless and completely undone.
I wanted to kiss her again. Wanted it with an intensity that had bypassed want entirely and become something closer to need. But I’d promised this would happen on her terms. I was a man of my word. Even when keeping it was the hardest thing I’d done in years.
So, I stepped back. Picked up the toolbox. Looked at her against the wall with her hair wrecked and her face wearing an expression of disbelief.
“Kitchen faucet,” I said.
She stared at me as if she couldn’t understand what I was saying.
“You said it drips,” I said.
She pushed off the wall, smoothed her shirt, and walked past me toward the back with her chin up and her color high.
I followed her and thought about patience and how good it would feel when it finally paid off.