Don't Tell (Don't 1)

“Drive through the country side.” He counted off the options on his fingers. “Search for Civil War battlefields.”

“Really?” I eyed him.

“I did download a new crossword app.” The corners of his mouth twitched.

I rinsed my hair before pressing into the hard planes of his chest.

He laughed. “Or we could take in the winery. It’s right outside.”

I grinned. “And turn down grassy fields of ancient battles?” I scrunched my nose.

“If you insist on wine.” He gripped my bottom, sliding me against him. “Such a smartass.”

I bit my lip, peering into his eyes. The water dripped from his lashes. He hadn’t shaved, and the stubble on his cheeks was irresistibly handsome on him. I sighed as his lips moved against mine with tender passion.

After the shower I pulled on a pair of jeans and a button-up blue plaid shirt.

The crisp air hit my nostrils when we ventured outside. We walked through the rows of grapes.

“Try this one.” Vaughn plucked a reddish grape from the vine.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to do that.” I looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

“Open your mouth.” He grinned.

“You are so very bad,” I whispered.

“You like bad.”

He touched the grape to my lips. My lips parted as he fed me. I bit into the fruit as his mouth crashed into mine.

He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me from the ground. I hooked my boots against his waist. There was fever in the kiss. Hunger. Want. Thirst for more of last night.

The world had tilted off its axis. Vaughn’s hands snaked up the back of my shirt. I struggled to find air in between kisses.

There was a restlessness between us. I didn’t know if the vineyard could hold us. If the inn could. If there was a place that could contain what we had set on fire.

My feet finally touched the soil again and I tried to find my balance. I looked in his eyes.

“The wine tasting?” I nodded in the direction of one of the tasting barns. I’d read in one of the brochures in the lobby that there were three here.

“Right.” He started in that direction. “Wine tasting.”

I settled into a stride next to him.

“Have you done this before?” I asked.

“No. First tasting.”

“I’ve done some, but not at a winery. It’s beautiful here.”

“It’s good to get away from D.C.”

“How is work going?” I always felt like I pried when I asked about his job, but there was a new connection between us.

His eyes were set on the red barn in front of us. “You know my work isn’t very interesting.”

“I don’t know that. You don’t talk about it much. You must like something about it.”