Chapter 4
I AM, WITHOUT A SHADOW OF A DOUBT, IN OVER MY HEAD WITH THIS WOMAN.
DARCY
I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I grabbed her hand and stuck her finger in my mouth. What I do know is Elizabeth’s shock was quickly replaced with a challenge I don’t want to back down from.
With a dollop of ice cream on the tip of my finger, I wait for her next move. Without hesitation, she takes hold of my wrist, like I did hers, and wraps her lips around the digit, her tongue swirling over it. Her eyes remain locked on mine as my jaw goes slack.
“Mmhmm,” she hums, letting my hand go and wiping at the corner of her lips, even though there’s nothing there. Then she sucks her own finger into her mouth, the one that had just been in mine. “Does taste better this way.”
“Fuck,” I whisper, running a hand down my face. I am, without a shadow of a doubt, in over my head with this woman. But I don’t mind one bit.
She continues eating her ice cream from the spoon, gaze full of mischief and pride for beating me at a game I didn’t even realize I’d been playing.
“You’d better eat that before it all melts away and you lose it.
” Her spoon waves in a little circle in the direction of the hand I’d forgotten had a full tub of ice cream in it.
The whole thing is about to topple to the ground, and I straighten quickly, muttering another curse as some drips onto my lap.
Now I’m glad I distracted myself with napkins earlier, when the sight of Elizabeth in my jacket made me want to reach for her and never let go.
Her melodic giggle fills the air, and I look up, unwilling to miss the moment.
“I’d offer to lick ice cream off your lap, but I think we’ve scarred the public enough tonight with our little show.
Later, though, I’d be more than happy to lick…
” She doesn’t finish her sentence, just pointedly looks down at my crotch, where my dick most certainly twitches in response to her offering to lick literally anything.
“Eat your ice cream, Peter,” she reminds me again, and I do.
With all the blood rushing to my groin and my mind imagining too many sordid things, I miss her next words, but I’m almost certain they were “good boy.”
Fucking hell.
No. Heaven. This is heaven.
We finish our desserts in content but loaded silence, the night darkening slowly around us as more streetlights come on and foot traffic dies down.
I stand to toss our now-empty cups into the garbage.
When I return, Elizabeth is standing, leaning on the tree next to our bench. Our bench. That’s what it is now.
I slow my steps, taking her in. She has my jacket wrapped around her torso, the hem of her shorts barely visible beneath it. God, she looks good wearing something of mine. She looks like she belongs in my clothes, my world, my life.
“Too bad I never got to taste your ice cream,” I say as I step into her space. Her eyes squint, and that mischievous look makes a return.
“Who says you still can’t?” she asks, slipping her fingers into the waistband of my pants and pulling me against her as her other hand wraps around the back of my neck, and our lips meet.
My surprise isn’t at the kiss itself, but how soft it is.
Her pillowy lips explore mine, the hand now on my stomach tentatively moving across my abs and to my back as the other’s gentle tug on the hair at my nape sends a shiver coursing down my spine.
I step forward until we’re completely flush.
When she gasps at the feel of my erection meeting her stomach, I lick into her mouth, swallowing her moan.
She fists my shirt while my arms slip beneath her borrowed jacket, wrapping around her to bring her closer still. It’s not enough. All the layers between us need to be eradicated. I need her skin. Need her fruity, summery scent all over me.
Her fingers thread through my hair, and she pulls hard enough to make me groan, but neither of us lets up, kissing and kissing until I’m so dizzy from lust and lack of air that I have to pull back.
“Damn it, what are you doing to me?” I ask into her skin, sucking in a lungful as I bury my face in her neck.
“I haven’t done anything yet.” Her breathless words bring me a truly stupid amount of satisfaction. She feels this, too.
I chuckle, the sound low and deep as I grind my hips into her. “I think you know exactly how untrue that is.”
“Not yet. Take me to your room and show me.” She releases my shirt, and I straighten to look at her. With her lips swollen and her eyes hazy, she’s somehow even more beautiful.
I don’t need to be told twice. I rearrange my erection, which is tenting my loose-fitting pants in an obscene way. I’m not about to let the people of Halifax have any more of a show than they’ve already gotten tonight, so I untuck my shirt, not caring how rumpled and messy it might make me look.
The next moment, I take Elizabeth’s hand, and we begin our brisk walk out the garden gates and toward the yellow glowing lights of our hotel.
She yelps and giggles when I pick her up and jog across the road, causing a few cars to honk at us.
My grin is so wide it hurts as I set her down on the steps.
The doorman pretends not to notice us, but I don’t miss the curve of his lips and slight shake of his head. I practically skip to the elevator, where we don’t have to wait for the doors to open. Thank fuck.
I scan my card as she asks, “What floor?”
“Seven,” I say breathlessly.
“Same as mine.” She stays on the other side of the elevator, fiery gaze roaming slowly, intentionally over my body. It takes herculean strength to hold myself back from lunging at her, kissing her again, touching every inch of her creamy skin.
Finally, the metal box dings, and before the doors have fully opened, I say, “left.” As she steps in front of me, slipping off the borrowed jacket I weirdly hope she keeps forever, my eyes land on her mostly exposed back, and I can’t force my hands to keep to themselves anymore.
I grab her waist, lowering my lips to her shoulder as I rearrange my steps to be in sync with hers. It slows us down some, but I don’t mind when she whimpers and guides my hand to her breast.
I swipe over her hardened nipple, realizing for the first time tonight, she’s not wearing anything under this shirt, and I bite down on the spot where her neck meets her shoulder. And my dream girl answers with a breathy gasp.
When we reach my door, I say a silent thanks to whatever higher power is responsible for me not fumbling with the key and struggling to get the door to unlock, because it does so on the first try.
As we stumble inside, we immediately crash together, mouths seeking each other desperately.
My jacket is dropped to the floor, and Elizabeth’s arms wrap around my neck.
I kick off my shoes and press her into the wall, reaching for the backs of her thighs so I can lift her.
She doesn’t miss a beat, wrapping her legs around me.
Yanking on my hair, she pulls our lips apart. “I have questions.” Her pupils are dilated, and her breathing is shallow, but she continues, “Have you been tested recently, and have you been with anyone since?”
So we’re getting safety out of the way now. Got it. “Yes. Results were good. And no. I’ve also never fucked anyone without a condom.”
“Good. You won’t be doing that tonight, either, but if my mouth is going anywhere near your cock, I need to know these things.
” She rolls her hips, and I hiss at the contact.
Even over layers of clothing, she’s so fucking warm.
“I’m also clear. On birth control, but condoms are a must. You have some? ”
“Yeah,” I answer quickly, nodding for good measure.
“Such a good boy, Peter.” Elizabeth arches her back, and I groan, both at her words and the feel of her body against mine.
Having had enough of talking, I carry her to the bed and throw her onto it.
She lands with a bounce and a giggle, and for a moment, I’m stunned, standing there staring at her still fully clothed, but in my bed. She’s a dream.
“Take your clothes off,” she demands, and my hands instantly get to work on the buttons on my polo, then pull off both it and the T-shirt I need underneath because—
“Oh, shit,” Elizabeth whispers. “Didn’t see that coming.”