Rebound (Boomerang #2)(45)

I don’t want anything else, either.

He looks down at my body, and I drink in his expression, offering myself to him, letting myself be seen in a way I never have before. I’ve been a lights-off girl, an under-the-covers girl. Now, I can’t imagine why.

“Your skin, Ali . . .” says Adam. “You glow.” His hands still cupped beneath me, he hefts me closer, bending over me, his tongue tracing along the lace of my bra, dipping into the hollow of my throat, sucking and nipping and tasting me. “God, you even taste good,” he groans.

“That’s not fair,” I tell him. Again, it’s like I’m someone else with him. Someone with no shame, no guilt, who can speak her desires plainly. I don’t know what kept me from being that girl before, but I’m glad she’s shown up now, when I need her most. “I want to taste you. I want your tongue in my mouth again.”

He makes a sound like a tortured sigh and presses his lips to mine, driving his tongue between my teeth. My legs lock tighter around him, and I pull him against my body. I’m wrapped in the soft heat of his mouth, his darting tongue, and in the hardness he presses against me, so close, only the sheerest bit of fabric keeping us apart.

I’m no longer drunk, but now I tumble into an intoxicated, elated state so powerful I literally feel like I might faint. I hold onto him, molding my body against his, feeling how much he wants me—it’s all here for me, his hands, his sweet, artful tongue, the feel of him pressed against my core, sending a deep, carving pulse through my entire body.

I reach down between our bodies for his belt. He groans, and the sound shatters me. God, I want him. Somewhere. Now.

“Adam, I need—”

Something pokes me hard in the back, and Adam and I stagger together, breaking contact.

We turn to see Suede’s long elegant muzzle right up close to us. He knickers softly.

“What’s wrong, boy?” Adam asks, lowering me to the ground.

Heavy footsteps crunch on the drive, and in lightning quick succession, Adam pulls up my dress and zips it, then buckles his own belt and takes a subtle step away from me, his expression reforming into one of nonchalance.

My father appears in the stable doorway. He’s in jeans and has an ill-fitting sweater tossed on over his pajama top, making him look old and disheveled.

“There you are!” he exclaims, as though he’s searched the ends of the earth for me.

My heart pounds so hard that it’s on the edge of painful. I try to make myself sound normal. “Yes,” I say. “I was just introducing Adam to Persephone and Suede.”

“I see that.” My father’s gaze sweeps over Adam, and there’s a new brittleness to his expression. I can’t read whether it’s disapproval or something else.

“I gave Alison a ride home,” Adam says smoothly. He doesn’t add why, and I know he never would.

My father steps closer, and the space seems to shrink with his presence. His face is ruddy, eyes glassy. I guess I’m not the only one who’s been drinking. Suddenly, I feel like everything about me is pre-designed. Like I’m just part of this great machine, which for generations has been spitting out discontented perfectionists with a fondness for booze.

I pat Suede’s neck and whisper, “Thank you,” in his ear. At least he’s got my back. Adam too, I know.

“And how was your date, Alison?” my father asks. “And how is it that he didn’t drive you home?”

“It’s a long story, dad,” I tell him. “Why don’t you go back inside, and I’ll come tell you all about it in a second. I want to walk Adam out to his car, okay? I know we both have big days tomorrow.”

“Big week,” Adam confirms.

“That’s right.” My father nods. “Your team-building trip.”

Adam nods. “Yes, lots to do before we head out.”

“Well, I won’t keep you,” my father tells him. Once again, his eyes move between us, but I keep my expression neutral. Masked.

“Thank you,” Adam replies. “When we get back, I’d like to sit down with you, go over final details. I think you’ll have everything you need for a decision by then.” His eyes shift to me.

“We’ll have much to discuss, I’m sure,” my father says.

I settle Persephone and Suede in for the night, and Adam draws the big double doors closed behind the three of us. We head toward the drive together, and I expect my father to part ways at the path up to the house, but he remains with us, claiming he wants to take a closer look at Adam’s car.

It’s quiet now. Only our footsteps and the light murmur of the surf fill the air. I think about how often I’ve wished to go backward since I’ve met Adam, back to the breathtaking moments we’ve shared. Maybe they’re better than normal life because they’re forbidden. Or maybe they’re better because it’s just the two of us, sharing some raw part of ourselves we tend to keep hidden from view.

I don’t know what it is, except that those moments feel high-definition to me, every touch and breath sharper than life.

We reach his car, and after giving my father a quick tour of the interior, Adam slides inside and pulls the seat belt across his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, and his eyes say so much more that I want to dive into the seat beside him and have him carry me off into the night.