Tangle (Dogwood Lane 2)

His hands find the underneath of my behind and cup my ass. He jostles me forward until our bodies are pancaked together, and the only way we’d be more connected is if he were inside me.

I tremble at the thought, feeling his tongue dip inside my mouth again. He explores me like he has every right and permission to stake claim to my body.

“Trevor,” I whisper as his lips drag along my jaw. He lays kisses one at a time down my neck and then up again until he’s nestled behind my ear. He nibbles my earlobe, pulling it with his teeth, and I think I’m going to explode.

My body sags against his. His fingers bite into my skin, the tips close enough to my opening to tease, but not close enough to do any good.

A shot of adrenaline soars through my frame, and I become acutely aware of my situation. I’m going to do this or I’m not.

Trevor takes a step back, his breathing ragged and heavy. His chest rises and falls like he’s run a mile but is ready, and willing, to run another should I request it.

“Hey,” I say, fighting to catch my breath.

“Hey, what?”

“I thought I told you not to stop.”

He grins, a sexy smirk showing off the dimple in his left cheek. His mouth opens and his tongue touches his top lip. “If I keep kissing you, it won’t be kisses anymore.”

He looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world. It’s heady—intoxicating, even. The feeling is so strong that nothing matters in this moment but Trevor and me.

I saunter toward him. “What, exactly, would it be?”

“I’d lift that beautiful dress right over your head until you were standing in front of me in your panties and bra.”

My hands shake as I keep eye contact and bend forward. I can hear my breath in the silence as I grasp the edge of my dress. It’s joined by a gasp from him as I lift the fabric up and over my head.

Warm air caresses my skin. His gaze nearly melts it. A bulge stretches the fabric of his pants. Knowing I’ve turned him on this much drives me crazy.

“Now what?” I ask, holding the fabric out for him to take.

“My God, Haley.” He forces a swallow. “I can’t believe you’re standing here in front of me like this.”

“You want to go back to the rules now?”

He snatches the dress from my hand and tosses it to the side, making me giggle.

My heels dig into the soft earthen floor as I take the three steps between us. I grab the buckle of his belt and, with a shaky hand, unlatch it.

He stands still, his hands at his side, as I unfasten his pants. The zipper drags down his groin, the sound rumbling against the soft hum of the heater.

I’m afraid my chest is going to burst as I loosen his tie, my fingers struggling against the anticipation. He watches me as if to let me make the decision.

And I do.

One button is released. Then two. I work my way down his chest. With each one freed comes another glimpse of his chest—muscled and firm—and by the time I slide the fabric over his wide shoulders, I think I’m panting.

He’s glorious. A display of male perfection with tanned, smooth skin and symmetry stands before me like my own personal art show.

“There you go,” he says. “You’ve been waiting for this since the day at the café.”

I drag my eyes to his. “Don’t get cocky yet. I can put my dress back on.”

His hands smack against my butt cheeks and drag me against him. I look up into his unguarded eyes, my skin touching his, and watch him grin.

“Not so fast,” he says. A palm slides over the round of my ass until his fingers are lying along my slit. He spreads my legs with a motion of his hand.

I gasp. My body convulses against his touch, his fingers undoubtedly wet from my arousal, and I don’t know whether to be self-conscious about that or just finish melting in his arms.

“I’ll promise you something,” he says roughly. The tips of his fingers press against my opening.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve been looking forward to this day more than you.” He kisses me again. His free hand skims my bottom, pausing for a moment to grip the curve of my hip before working its way to my breast.

My arms dangle over his shoulders as I work my lips against his.

My brain malfunctions, unable to process the overloaded stimuli.

Lace rubbing against my clit.

Fingers dipping into the pool between my legs.

Nipples beaded into stiff peaks, begging for a tongue to stroke them.

My mouth completely overwhelmed and owned.

“Oh,” I moan, letting my head fall back. He kisses down the front of my neck and over the tender skin of my chest.