Meet Me Halfway(92)

He dragged me forward against his body, his hands sliding down my ass as his eyes sparked with a mischievous glint.

“On a scale from one to ten, how romantic would it be if I told you I wanted to whisk you away for the night?”

I cocked my head to the side, scrunching my face, “A four, given we can’t do that, so you’d only be teasing me.”

“What if I told you your parents asked me if they could have Jamie tonight to watch some Christmas movie that’s on TV?”

My heart picked up, my pulse thrumming beneath my skin. They’d asked him instead of me for permission, as if they saw us as equal partners. As if they knew I trusted him to answer on my behalf.

“What if I want to watch the movie too?”

“We can do whatever you want, baby. But I was thinking we could swing by a coffee stand for hot chocolate and then drive through the ritzy neighborhoods to look at Christmas lights.”

There was a kaleidoscope of butterflies inside of me. I might have floated to the ceiling if he hadn’t had such a firm hold on my rear. “And after that?”

“I’ll take you back to my side and make love to you as many times as needed to have you drenched and blissfully sated.” His hands tightened, and then he was lifting me and setting me on the counter, my legs instinctively wrapping around him.

He stood pressed against my center, his large hands resting on my thighs. “Then after all of that, I’ll revert to my stalker-like tendencies and watch you sleep while you’re curled into me emitting those sweet, happy sighs I love.”

My hand drifted between us, and I rubbed the heel of my palm along the erect length straining against his jeans. “What if I need something a little rougher to feel blissfully sated?”

“Then I’ll shove your panties in your mouth to keep you from waking Layla next door and fuck you into oblivion anywhere and everywhere you want.”

I might as well have been the sixth Great Lake with how my body reacted. His words brought back a slew of images that were best not remembered at a family gathering, but my mind latched onto them with filthy glee anyway.

Turned out, Garrett had a thing for sinking his fingers into me elsewhere while he fucked me from behind. The act would send him into a desperate frenzy, and he’d pound into me so violently I was pretty sure I’d learned a new language. By the devilish gleam in his eyes, I had a feeling it might be more than his fingers fucking me there tonight.

I squeezed my thighs around his waist, wishing we were already home. Snaking my fingers around his head, I brought his face down to me and demanded his lips. He readily obliged.

When we finally broke apart, it was only far enough for me to utter, “Nine,” against his mouth.

He chuckled, letting his hands wander up my sides, “Damn, still only a nine? What would make it a ten?”

“Tell me you love me again.”

His hands continued sliding over my ribs, and he smiled against me. “That’s easy then. I love you, fuzzy socks and all.”

My reply poured straight from my chest, no nerves, no second-guessing, no over-thinking. No wall. He was mine. And I’d only ever be his. “I love you, too.”

His head reared back, and his hands shot up to grip my face and tip it. His chest rose and fell heavily against me, and his eyes were two glittering hazel pools.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Garrett Rowe.”

He crashed his mouth to mine, sealing my words between us like he needed to taste them on his tongue. He spoke in between kisses, “Home first, then Christmas lights.”

I giggled, pushing him back. “We both know we’ll never get back out to view lights if we go home first.”

Home. Because that’s what it was, our home. Our belongings might have been separated by a wall, but it was only a wall. We’d yet to let those stand in the way.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, helping me off the counter and readjusting himself. He looked mildly in pain as he set his hand on the doorknob. “Meet me at my car in five minutes, or I’m coming to find you.”

“Promise?”

He smirked, “Countdown’s already started, little mama. I suggest you run.”

I’ve never moved faster.





Epilogue





Heaving forward, I curled my spine, trying in vain to roll into a sitting position. I failed, flopping back onto the mattress when the round weight on my stomach was too much. I tried again, grumbling out a curse.

“Seriously, Garrett, I have to pee so bad, move!”

He laughed, a dimple peeking out at me from where his head laid on my torso. He wrapped his arms tighter around me and turned, snuggling his face down toward my lap.

“If I wet this bed because you won’t get off me, I’m going to rub your nose in it like a dog.”

He playfully bit my thigh and chuckled harder when I swatted him. “Learn to curb your wine intake when we have get-togethers, and you won’t spend half the night emptying your bladder.”

I shoved his head this time, kicking and thrashing my legs, wiggling them out from under his weight. I made it as far as a foot before his arms grew vice-like and he rolled, taking me with him. Stopping in the center of our bed, he pinned me beneath him, letting me feel a hint of his weight but holding the bulk of it off me.