The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(67)

And on mornings, if we were lucky, we’d distract them with a thirty-minute show on a television or a tablet while we jumped into the shower … together.

“What’s going through that beautiful head of yours?” Fisher asked before kissing the top of said beautiful head. My cheek had been resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, as we swayed in silence.

“I want this,” I murmured.

“Want what? More dancing?”

Lifting my head, I gazed up at him and smiled. “More … everything.”

Fisher blinked several times as his knuckles brushed my cheeks. He knew. He knew what more and everything meant. “Me too.” He kissed me while walking me backward out of the kitchen. And I begged for it to be like my dream.

It was.

He broke our kiss to remove my shirt. And we sneaked another kiss before we removed his shirt. More kisses.

My bra.

His back against the hallway wall while I kissed his chest and unbuttoned his jeans.

More kisses and more steps ensued as he inched my leggings south, but just barely past my butt. Fisher’s strong hands slid inside the back of my panties, gripping me, pulling me close, rubbing me against him.

The brush of his bare chest along my nipples while his tongue teased mine … it was intoxicating. Everything about us felt all-consuming. We were memories in the making, ignited by a past he couldn’t remember and fueled by a desire for a future that seemed painfully just out of reach.

“You’re so…” he kissed down my body, kneeling in front of me “…fucking beautiful.” His tongue teased my navel as his hands worked my leggings and panties the rest of the way down my legs. “And sexy … god you’re so sexy.” His mouth moved lower.

My hands found their place in his hair, and they curled into fists, forcing him to look up at me. “I had the biggest crush on you.” More heat found its way to my cheeks, taking me back to that eighteen-year-old girl, out of my mind infatuated with him.

A slow smile worked its way up Fisher’s face as his hands slid along the back of my legs, coming to a rest just below my butt. “Yeah?”

Why was I embarrassed? Why did my heart go wild in my chest making my tummy feel nervous? I wasn’t retelling our past to him. I wasn’t telling him how he felt about me. I wasn’t telling him anything he had to reach for to truly understand. They were my feelings.

They shaped me as a woman in ways he’d never know even if he did remember everything. And I wanted him to see me. All of me.

“Yeah.” I bit my lower lip for a second. “I had no idea sexy wore jeans, a faded tee, and work boots. I had no idea sexy drove a truck and mowed the lawn without a shirt. Well …” I giggled. “I should’ve known sexy mowed the lawn without a shirt. On mornings we rode to work together, I was so giddy. I practically sprinted to your truck, slowing at the last minute to act cool and controlled. Then I prayed you had music playing so you didn’t hear my heart so out of control. And I’d stare at your hands on the steering wheel, those veins up your arms, your full lips as you’d lick them after taking a sip of your coffee.” I slowly shook my head. “I was in deep, feeling things I’d never experienced before. And it felt so wrong, but I couldn’t stop. And you didn’t help … you and your effortless sex appeal just … every single day.”

He stood slowly, kissing my chest and neck on his way to my lips. And before he kissed me on the mouth, he paused, letting his gaze ghost along my face. “I didn’t think I could love you more.” He swept my hair away from my face before weaving his fingers through it. “I was so fucking wrong.”

We kissed.

Clothes vanished along with the rest of the world. And I knew we were an unstoppable storm. But … how much damage would we do in our pursuit to be together?

I died a little when he sank into me. It felt different. We felt different.

Fisher’s heavy breaths washed over my cheek as his lips found my ear. “You are my favorite place in the world.”

I gripped his backside as my legs wrapped around him.

That spoke to my soul, that place that defined us because we were everywhere our souls took us. And maybe that was Heaven. And maybe that was Hell. But in that moment, it was in a bed of messy sheets and tangled limbs.

It was a pretty fucking amazing place.





A little before four in the morning, I wormed my way out of his enveloped arms. I kinda loved that he held me so close, like he didn’t want to ever let me go. After peeing, I stole a hoodie from his closet and pulled it over my head. Closing his bedroom door behind me, I tiptoed to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“Score.” I grinned at the plate of holiday leftovers he must have brought home from his parents’ house. Pulling off the plastic wrap, I swiped my finger through the cold mashed potatoes. “Oh my gosh, those are good.” I skipped the fork and made a second swipe through the mashed potatoes with my finger. They had a buttermilk taste to them.

“Are you really eating my lunch?”

I jumped and turned toward Fisher, licking the potatoes from the corner of my mouth.

He sauntered toward me in nothing but his charcoal gray briefs that hugged him in all the right places. “Stop eyeing my cock while licking your lips.”

My gaze snapped up to meet his as my tongue made a quick retreat back into my mouth. I grinned. “These are the best potatoes I’ve ever had. And if you tell Rory that, I’ll kill you.”