Intent(28)

“Layne, I’d really, really love to curl your toes again. But I’m afraid you’ll regret it tomorrow when you’ve sobered up from drinking a whole bottle of wine tonight.”

She scrunches her eyebrows in confusion for a second before she chuckles. “I didn’t drink a whole bottle of wine, Ace. I had one glass of it before I knocked it over because the damn fire ants attacked me.”

“You’re sober?”

“Completely.”

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that,” I admit. “Wait. That means you shared your personal life with me willingly, then?”

Uncertainty clouds her eyes for a moment. “I just thought I should give you the benefit of the doubt if I’m going to ask Frankie to give you a chance.”

“So you’re the sacrificial lamb, putting your own well-being on the line so you can protect Frankie?”

“I’d rather it be me who gets hurt again than him,” she admits. “But I don’t think you’re that kind of man, Ace, or I wouldn’t take the risk at all.”

“Layne?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to give you the best kiss you’ve ever had now. Your toes will never be straight again.”





Chapter Nine





Layne



The silky smooth feel of his tongue gliding across mine sends shivers down my spine. His intrinsic taste is every bit as intoxicating as that bottle of strawberry wine, except he’s much more addictive. When his calloused fingers glide across my cheek, a need greater than I’ve ever known consumes me and makes me want to beg for him to touch me everywhere.

I am safe and secure under the weight of his body, and his lips and tongue move with expert precision and determination. Even when I try to rush him and greedily take more, he won’t allow it. He keeps complete control, drawing out the pleasure, leaving me wanting—no, needing—more. My next breath is dependent upon his kiss, his touch, his taste. What I was intent would never happen again is happening right before me, but I can’t willfully stop this any more than I can willfully stop my heart from beating.

He shifts his weight and settles his hips between my legs. The sudden friction against my clit causes an intense moan to escape from my throat. His responding growl only amplifies the fire that is about to combust between us. His hips flex and his erection slides across me. My fingers curl into his shirt, my nails scrape across his skin, and my neck arches in response. Ace’s lips move down to my exposed neck as he kisses, licks, and nips at the erogenous area.

“You taste good everywhere,” he murmurs. “Your lips, your tongue, your neck. I can’t help but wonder what you taste like in other places.”

His hands find their way under my shirt, and he slowly pushes it up as he slides down. His fingers are sprawled out across my abdomen, heating my core from his mere touch. When the stubble from his faded beard scrapes across my stomach, my hands instinctively jerk to his head and my fingers glide through his light brown hair. He pulls my skin through his teeth, sucking it into his mouth, and then laving the area with his warm tongue.

“Mmm, the more I taste you, the better it gets,” he hums against my skin.

He lifts his eyes to look at me. Looking for permission? He has it, whatever he wants to do to me. Town gossip be damned. I don’t care what they think of me, how easy they think I am, or how jealous they are that he’s here with me. Not one of them has walked in my shoes, has felt what I’ve felt, or has been hurt in the way that I’ve been hurt—because none of them is me.

“Ace,” I beg with one word. A one-syllable, one-word plea.

Mixed emotions swirl in his eyes, and I can pick each one out as if it were a neon sign. Understanding—that my single word reply says so much more than I can. Relief—because I feel the same need he does. Determination—my carnal craving will be fully satisfied judging by the fire building in his eyes.

“Come back to my house with me, Layne,” he requests. “You deserve better than a blanket on the ground.”

“A warm summer night, a soft blanket, thick Bermuda grass, and a sky full of stars shining brightly? What could be better than this?” I ask softly.

“Are you sure?”

He searches my eyes again, waiting for some sign that’ll give him a clear indication, while his thumb lightly strokes my cheek. I consider the fact that Bobby is the only man I’ve ever been with and how I feel about that fact changing. While I’ve only known Ace a few weeks, I dated Bobby for a full year before having sex the first time. The differences between the two men make their personalities seem like day and night.

Then there’s the pesky little fact that I’m only here for a short time.

Ace isn’t really the New York City type, and I have no intentions of moving here. Long-distance relationships don’t work past the short-term phase, so there’s no point in even attempting that disaster. Not that I’m expecting forever, but then, I really haven’t given any thought to what I expect at all.

“Layne, as much as I want to hear you screaming my name until it echoes off the mountains all night, I don’t want to rush you and it seems that’s exactly what I’m doing. I won’t take you tonight. For now, I’m going to leave this as the best first and second kiss I’ve ever had—and wait for the rest. And, honestly, I don’t think you’re ready for this yet.”