Back and forth, back and forth. He held my hands firm, his body pressed up against my back. “She made an offer I had to refuse.”
“O-oh?” I swallowed. “What was that?”
“A perfectly boring life where Legos don’t exist.”
“I thought you wanted a perfectly boring life where Legos don’t exist.” Throat suddenly dry, heart pounding, I tried to focus on the dish and nothing but the dish, but he was close, so close, and the kiss was still fresh in my mind, as was her invading our family space earlier.
“Yeah, well…” His lips grazed my ear. “Things change. It was a hard day only because I had a lot of thinking to do and had an extremely difficult time doing so.”
“Hope you didn’t strain a brain cell,” I teased nervously. I was so going to drop a plate and kill the moment.
“Nah, I’m feeling pretty strong right now,” he snapped right back, his lips grazing my neck in a kiss that had my entire body shuddering with delight.
“What are you doing?” I asked quietly, afraid of rejection, afraid of acceptance, just afraid of everything as he spun me in his arms and started kissing me.
My hands were wet from dish soap.
I had bubbles on my shirt, slime probably still in my hair.
And Rip didn’t care.
He kissed me hard, his tongue sliding past my lips, taking control of how deeply he was kissing me as I arched up against him, my arms sliding around his neck as he pulled me up onto the counter next to the sink and wrapped my legs around his waist.
He was hard where I was soft.
He was clearly aroused.
I needed more of his taste.
His touch.
Everything seemed to click into place in one messy moment.
Maybe that was how it was always supposed to be.
“Uncle Rip!” Ben yelled downstairs. “We’re ready for bed!”
“Me too.” Rip’s eyes sparkled as he kissed me one last time. “Me too.”
“Someone’s being spontaneous.”
“Someone found that stick up his ass and burned it.”
“Painful.”
“Necessary.”
“Better?”
He nipped at my lips again. “You have no idea.”
I groaned, jerking him by the shirt to meet his lips, and then, “Aunt Colby! I’s ready for bed story!”
Viera.
Our foreheads touched.
“Duty calls,” he rasped.