Chapter 11 #2
“No.” She laughed. “Definitely not. I kicked his ass all the time in cards. From my sister, Amber. Nobody beats her, not even her husband.”
Rush nodded, filing that away. She was close to her family. He’d known that from seeing the Hart women around town, but hearing the affection in her voice made him feel better about what she would go home to.
He didn’t know Lily all that well aside from a polite nod around town, and the way she blushed when she ran into him, but he knew enough. She was softer than most, but there was something about her too. A quiet kind of stubbornness under all that sweetness. He liked that. More than he should.
He looked over his cards, but any focus he had was shot to hell the second his gaze drifted back to Lily.
She was sexy in a way that turned on every one of his buttons, curvy and big-breasted, with beautiful rounded hips and strong, sleek legs he wanted wrapped around every part of his body, preferably his head first.
But the worst part—the part that was making his fingers flex around the glass of whiskey—was the way she was nibbling on that pouty bottom lip.
He nearly groaned. That mouth was driving him crazy.
He was already nearly obsessed with it. The delicate pink color that he knew matched her nipples.
Oh, fuck. He needed to get his shit together.
Coming so close to kissing her outside had been a mistake, but fuck if he didn’t want to do it again.
Over and over again until he memorized every sound she made.
And then there was the way she’d touched him earlier.
Watching her kneel between his legs while she worked her hands over his thigh had been a test of pure willpower.
Her hands were small but strong. Each stroke of her hands on him had sent shards of fire straight to his cock, and he’d had a hell of a time not pulling her up and onto his lap to see how she would feel against him.
Letting Lily put her hands on him wasn’t his best idea. He had a feeling that she could make a man think about staying a while.
And that wasn’t in the cards.
“You’re close with your family,” he said, forcing himself back to safer ground.
“Very,” she murmured distantly, not taking her eyes off her cards.
“They smother me with their concern, but I love them all the same.” She paused, tucking her legs underneath her.
“I have three sisters—Evie’s my twin, then Amber, and Allie is the oldest. Evie and I are the youngest. And then my mom—I’m sure you’ve seen her around.
She owns the interior design studio on Main Street. ”
Rush nodded, looking over his cards, suppressing a grimace. Garbage hand.
He’d met Annette Hart and most of her family in passing on his rounds through town. They were a well-known family around Northfield—wealthy and well respected.
Across from him, Lily sat cross-legged and tried to contain her glee as she looked at her hand. She was as transparent as glass. It was endearing as hell.
“How about a wager?” she asked innocently. Her color was high in her cheeks, her expression pure innocence, but she couldn’t hide the mischief in her eyes. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth again and pretended to think.
Rush sat back, watching her, and held onto his laugh.
He nodded, pretending to look over his terrible hand again, but instead let himself watch her. Hell, he enjoyed everything about her. The cabin would have been damn lonely without her. For all he teased her when she talked about her wacky energy stuff, she was a delight so far.
And he wanted to fuck her. There was that too.
“What would you like to wager?” He knew—he hoped—he knew what she would say.
Because he wanted it too. More than he could remember wanting almost anything. But he needed her to say it.
She blushed, a gorgeous rosy pink that bloomed over her cheeks, and he wondered with great interest how far down the color went.
Did it skim over her long pale throat? Spread lower past her collarbone to those beautiful, full tits? Did it touch her nipples? He knew exactly what those looked like when they were tight and flushed for him.
“Can I have a sip of that?” She nodded toward the glass in his hand.
“Have you ever had whiskey?” he asked skeptically.
“Yeah, all the time,” she said archly. “While I played poker.”
He didn’t believe her, but it didn’t matter, because she took the glass from him, inhaled deeply, and then pounded it quickly back like it was a shot instead of a sip meant to be savored.
She gasped, eyes going wide as she coughed and sputtered. Her whole body shuddered, and her eyes watered.
“All the time, huh?” he drawled, watching her try to compose herself.
Lily sucked in a breath. “All. The. Time.”
He did laugh then, shaking his head at her when she grinned back at him unrepentantly. “You want to try again there, angel? See if it goes down any smoother?” He poured another shot.
“Maybe later,” she said primly, making him laugh harder.
She fixed him with a look. “Let’s wager a kiss,” she said, with that mix of shyness and mischief of hers that was proving to drive him wild.
Hell yes. “And if I win?” he asked, low.
Lily pulled her lip in again, her bravado flickering under the intensity of his stare.
He waited, wondering if she would back out, and admiring her once again.
She really was beautiful, all delicate angles and long, lovely lines.
Her high cheekbones were flushed pink from the fire.
Her full lips curved up and begged to be nipped and sucked, and big, expressive eyes gave her away every time.
She lifted her chin and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Anything you want.”
His breath left him. Well fucking done, Lily.
He grinned slowly. Deliberately, letting the anticipation stretch between them. He dragged his gaze over her, taking in the way her chest rose and fell, the tight grip on her cards. “Let’s see what you’ve got,” he murmured.
Lily swallowed, a flicker of nervousness crossing her face. She put her cards down with a snap. “Full house,” she declared, a challenge in her voice that made the caveman in him want to drag her to the bed and ravish her.
He showed his hand, thoroughly enjoying her little bounce when she realized she had won.
His eyes dipped again. How could they not?
Her breasts shifted under his flannel, soft and perfect, making his mouth go dry and his cock stiffen at a vision of Lily straddling him, those plump tits bouncing just like that while he licked and sucked them.
Fuck.
He swirled the amber liquid in his glass and watched the way it caught the light before taking a slow sip, letting the burn ground him before he did something truly reckless.
She grinned smugly and reached for his glass.
He caught her wrist, wrapping his fingers around the small bones in her wrist. “No more shots.”
“No more?” she asked, raising a brow. “I think the winner deserves a drink, don’t you?”
Rush shook his head slowly, still holding onto her wrist, his thumb tracing a lazy, deliberate stroke over her pulse. Fast. Fluttering wildly under her smooth skin.
“Not like that,” he said quietly. Firmly. Her pupils went wide, her irises darkening to a deeper green. Dazed and wanting. “Whiskey’s meant to be taken slow. Let it linger. Sink in.”
She swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. He wanted to feel that tongue against his, slick and warm, tasting exactly how he knew she’d taste—sweet and hot. Addictive.
He exhaled slowly and sat back in the chair. “Riggs, go lie down,” Rush ordered quietly. Riggs’s collar jingled as he walked to the fireplace and lay down facing the fire with a huff of breath, uninterested in whatever was about to happen next.
“Come here.” His voice was rough and a little bossy. He didn’t miss the way her eyes dilated at his tone, as if she liked him like that, a little demanding. He filed that away for later.
She didn’t hesitate, rising gracefully to lower herself onto the coffee table in front of him.
For all her outward confidence, there was a note of something else in Lily that intrigued him.
He could sense her hesitation. Maybe innocence.
It made him want to protect her and dirty her up at the same time.
“Here?” Her voice was soft and breathy now. He felt as if she’d stroked his body with her mouth.
He nodded, never breaking eye contact. Slowly, deliberately, he took another sip of whiskey, letting the slow burn slide over his tongue, letting her watch.
Then, without hesitation, he reached out, sliding a hand through the wild red waves of her hair to curl his fingers around the nape of her neck.
The strands were still damp, carrying the scent of his soap, but under it, something softer, more feminine.
Lily. The mix of the two, his scent and hers, made him wild.
He felt the shiver that ran through her, a flutter of sensation against him as light as a butterfly.
And then he kissed her.
Slowly. Deeply. Decadently.
She trembled, her lips parting with a sigh.
Her head tilted back, and she met his eyes while he studied her face, her full lower lip that begged to be nipped.
The freckles on her nose. Her pulse fluttered wildly in her throat, and those wide green eyes stared back at him, a heady mix of bold desire and shyness.
He took his time, coaxing, brushing her mouth with his, until she melted against him with a whimper. And then he gave her what he’d been dying to give.
He parted his lips, stroking the whiskey into the sweet silkiness of her mouth, letting her taste it the way he wanted her to—from him, on him, hot and slow and intoxicating.
She whimpered, opening wider, and he groaned, taking more.
His hands slid to her face, thumbs stroking over the delicate line of her jaw as he kissed her deeper, filthier, until she had no choice but to hold on to him. She tasted like sweet, hot liquor. He worked his fingers back into the heavy fall of her hair and held her mouth still.
Teaching. Tempting. Showing her exactly how he liked to drink his whiskey best.