He blew out a mouthful of air. Time to lighten the mood. “Okay, then. Can you tell me why some women shave their eyebrows off and pencil them back in? Because I’ve always been wondering about that.”
This time her laughter was genuine. She tipped her head back, her eyes closing as she giggled out loud. “I’ve no idea,” she said when she got herself under control. “But I’d like to know, too.”
“You’re beautiful when you laugh.” The words escaped his lips without going through his common-sense filter. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stop himself anyway. Because sitting there beside him, her face illuminated by the sun, she looked like beauty personified. It hurt his chest just to look at her.
She slowly turned her face to his. Her eyes were soft, her lips slightly parted, but it was her breathing he noticed most of all. It was shallow, as though it was caught in her throat. A slow flush worked its way up her neck.
Verboten, he reminded himself. It didn’t stop his body from reacting to her.
“Beauty’s only skin deep,” she whispered.
But it wasn’t, not with her. Maybe he’d thought that when they first met, but right now he could see so much more to Ally Sutton than just a pretty face. There was a fragility to her that made him want to protect her from everything, along with a strength that made him know she wouldn’t accept that at all.
“It is,” he whispered, the ocean breeze lifting his words. It lifted her hair, too, whipping it against her face. He leaned forward and gently pushed it away from her cheek, his fingers trailing across her skin.
She was still staring at him with those big blue eyes, as if he was some kind of God. It made him want to beat his chest, pick her up, and carry her back home. His muscles flexed with the memory of how she’d felt when he’d held her. Warm, soft, everything.
“Beautiful,” he said again. “Kind. Funny. Clever.” He traced his finger down from her cheekbone, along her jaw, and up to her mouth, trailing it across her bottom lip.
He could feel her stilted breath on his finger. One of them was trembling – he could feel i
t in his fingertips – but he wasn’t sure if it was Ally or him. Maybe it was both of them, because this moment was so full of everything.
He dropped his forehead, his brow resting against hers, and cupped her jaw, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of her neck. Her eyes were wide as she stared into his, and for a moment he wanted to drown in them. Her close proximity pushed any good sense he had left out of his mind. Everything about this felt inevitable. It was only a matter of how long he could last out.
Right now he was barely hanging on by a thread.
“Ally,” he whispered.
His lips were only a whisper from hers. When he said her name again he could feel her bottom lip quiver. He was full of her. Surrounded by her. Everything else around them faded into nothing as the spotlight of his desire fell firmly onto this woman. All those thoughts about how wrong it was. How he was her boss, how she was so young, they all seemed to dissolve into the air. His mind couldn’t concentrate on anything but her.
“I want to kiss you,” he said, his voice full of grit and need.
She blinked and looked up at him again, her face tilting a little until he could feel the warmth of her mouth only a brush away from his.
“Why don’t you?”
Right now he couldn’t think of a single damn reason. But still he hesitated, savoring that moment between thought and action. He was standing on the edge, teetering as gravity fought against sanity. Then he stroked her neck with his thumb, closing the gap between them to brush his warm lips against hers.
It wasn’t quite a kiss, but it was definitely an intention. He felt her breath catch, watched her close her eyes as she melted against him. He did it again, this time parting his lips against hers, sliding his other arm around her waist so he could pull them closer together.
She hooked her arms around his neck, arching her back so her face was angled perfectly against his. He deepened the kiss, still cupping her face as he moved his mouth with hers.
Ally threaded her fingers through his hair and let out the smallest of moans, the sound vibrating against his lips like a tiny concerto. Desire punched him in the gut like it was ready for a fight. It rose up through his belly, filling his chest, before it pulsed its way down to his thighs. Still holding her tightly, he slowly traced a line of fire along her bottom lip with his tongue. She tasted like everything he never knew he wanted.
She arched her back even more, pressing herself against him, the soft swell of her breasts pushing into his muscled chest. His body ached to scoop her up again – the way he’d done when he first brought her home – and carry her some place away from prying eyes where he could show her exactly how she made him feel.
“Nate.” His name was a sigh against his lips. He opened his eyes to see her staring into them, but then they suddenly darted away. “We have company,” she said, pulling back from him.
He turned to see a little boy – no more than three-years-old – standing next to them. He was holding an ice cream cone, but it was melting and turning his hand sticky. A bead dropped onto his yellow t-shirt. He was entranced by Ally’s crutches, reaching out a finger to touch the metal. He left a grubby brown fingerprint on them.
“I’m so sorry. He keeps running off.” A woman ran over, grabbing the boy by his arm. “Honey, you have to keep licking it or it melts everywhere,” she told him, lifting his hand up and running her tongue around the cone.
“My ice cream,” the boy said, pulling his hand away sharply.
From the corner of his eye Nate could see Ally biting her lip, trying not to laugh. He took a deep breath in, trying to steady himself as he smiled at the woman who was apologizing once again.
“It’s fine,” he said. And it was. Even if his body felt cold in spite of the Californian heat. It missed the feel of her against him. “We were just heading out anyway.” He looked at the little boy. “You should probably listen to your mom, though. She looks like she knows about ice cream.”