Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(36)

“Come closer. You can have the real thing.” I turned down the covers and moved over, making room for her.

But instead of climbing in, she walked around to her side of the bed. “No. You have to stay over there on your half. I’ll stay on mine.”

“Ellie, I’m twice as big as you. Half and half isn’t fair.”

“Well, try not to move around too much, okay?” She lay on her back and pulled the covers up to her chin. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Minutes ticked by in the dark.

There was no way I was going to fall asleep. All I could think about was the fact that she wasn’t wearing panties under my T-shirt. I rolled onto my side and propped my head on my elbow. It was so dark I couldn’t see if her eyes were open or closed.

“Are you watching me sleep?” she asked.

“You’re not sleeping.”

“I’m trying to.” She shivered. “I’m cold again.”

I reached for the plaid blanket she’d tossed at the foot of the bed and spread it over her. “Better?”

“I think so. Thanks.”

“You can always move closer to me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because it might lead to other things.”

“It’s fine, I have another condom.”

“No, Gianni. Goodnight.”

“Wait, I have a question.” I tapped her on the shoulder.

“What?”

“Was I as good as my dad in your dream?”

She sat up and hit me with her pillow. “You’re a jerk! I can’t believe I told you that. You have to promise you won’t ever tell anyone about it—or about anything that happened here tonight!”

I couldn’t stop laughing. “What happens at the Pineview Motel stays at the Pineview Motel.”

“Good.” She thumped her pillow down and huddled up facing the wall instead of me. “God, I’m going to regret everything about these twenty-four hours with you, aren’t I?”

“Oh, come on. We’re having a good time. In fact, this truce we have going is even more fun than fighting with you.”

“Ha.” She was silent for a few minutes but seemed to curl up tighter and tighter into a ball. Then she started to shiver.

“Permission to approach your side in order to share my body heat,” I stated robotically. “In a completely non-sexual way, of course.”

“Fine.” Her voice was small. “But only because I’m so cold.”

Smiling, I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward me so my body curved around hers—my chest against her back, her butt resting on my hips, my knees tucked behind hers. I kept my arm around her middle and inhaled the summer-day scent of her hair. I closed my eyes and felt seventeen again, bursting with reckless energy and stupid ideas. I recalled walking around at the Cherry Festival with friends and seeing her in that bikini, sash, and crown, posed above that dunk tank. Her legs were crossed at the ankle, her knees side by side, her thighs pressed tightly together.

But she’d opened those thighs for me tonight, hadn’t she? And she’d tasted better than a dream.

“Quit it, Gianni.”

“What?”

“I can feel you getting hard.”

“Sorry. I was thinking about earlier. I’ll try to stop.”

She was silent a moment. “What were you thinking about, specifically?”

I smiled. “The way you taste.”

“Oh.”

“Your hair smells good, and something about it reminds me of summer, so I started thinking about the Cherry Festival, and picturing you in your bikini, and remembering how hot you were sitting up there, and how your legs were all pressed together like a good girl’s, and then I remembered the way you spread them open for me, and my face was buried between them, and—”

“Jesus. So that’s how it happens.”

“That’s how it happens.” I continued to get hard, and I knew she could feel it. “Want me to let you go?”

“I’m—I’m not sure. Now I’m getting all confused.” She squirmed a little, which only made things worse. “You are nice and warm. Can’t you just make it go down?”

“Maybe, but I’d rather make it go in and out.”

She laughed, which surprised me. “Think about something unsexy.”

“I’m trying. It’s not working.”

“Well, we’re not doing it again. One free blizzard bang is all we get.”

“What’s a blizzard bang?”

“It’s a sort of hall pass you get during really bad weather to make questionable sexual decisions.”

I laughed. “But it’s a one-time use?”

“Yeah.”

“Too bad.” I held her closer and started kissing the back of her neck, fully prepared for her to push me away or tell me to stop. When she didn’t, I slipped my arm inside the shirt she wore, placing my hand on her bare stomach.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “Don’t make me want this again.”

“Should I stop?” Slowly, my palm slid up her rib cage.