“What would happen if I told you that I wasn’t safe? That I think you’re gorgeous and I’ve spent my fair share of moments fantasizing about what you’d feel like underneath me?”
“Adam…I…”
“I promise never to speak of this again.”
“Landry,” he repeats. Takes another step, then hauls himself up short. His chest heaves. Beside his thighs, his marvelous, magical hands fist and unfist.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He’s waiting for me. He’s been waiting for me. Because he doesn’t want me to be afraid. He doesn’t want to spoil my sanctuary. But my refuge feels more like an ivory tower, cutting me off from fully living.
If I stayed in my parents’ basement, hugging my solitude close, wouldn’t Marrow be beating me once again?
I gather my courage and close the gap between us. It takes three steps. Three long steps. I think he stops breathing. I hook a hand around the back of his neck and place the other on his chest for leverage. Rising on my tiptoes, I draw his mouth down to mine.
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
With a groan, his mouth crashes against mine. He gathers me in his arms and pulls me hard against his frame. I feel the press of his erection against my belly as he pulls me off the ground. My legs have nowhere to go but around his waist, and he groans again as the maneuver presses the thick ridge of his cock against the hollow ache of my core.
His tongue slashes its way into my mouth, taking away my breath, my worry, my fear, trading it for desire and lust and need. There’s a possession in his kiss that I’ve never felt before. A naked want that makes me tremble.
I clench my legs harder around him.
“Please,” I beg, although I’m not certain what I’m pleading for. I don’t want to stop kissing him or touching him or rubbing myself along the hard, seemingly endless column of his erection.
His answer is to grip me tighter and start moving. My hands are busy, caressing the skin at the base of his neck, running through the short strands of his soft hair. His mouth rubs against mine, never quite removing the contact.
We abandon our putters, our balls, our surroundings. I have no idea where we’re going or how we’re getting there. I simply hold on to Adam as he strides down, comes to a halt in a copse of trees.
“You’ve picked a hell of a time to be brave, Landry,” he growls, pushing me back against a tree trunk.
The rough bark scratches my palms as I reach behind to brace myself. The stubble along his jaw abrades my cheek and then my neck as his hungry mouth forges a sensitive trail from my chin to my collarbone.
“I, uh, wanted to kiss you.”
His teeth close over the throbbing vein in my neck. “Here? In the middle of the mini-golf park?”
“Why not here?” I ask.
His hands find the hem of my shirt and push upward, baring my skin to the cool breeze of the Austin night. I shiver, more from his greedy touch than the brisk air. He nips at my earlobe, traces his tongue around the upper shell.
I lose my train of thought—if I ever had one in the first place—as his hands come up to cover my lace-covered breasts. He tugs the cups down, replacing the delicate fabric with his coarse palms. My breasts feel heavier. I draw his head downward and am rewarded with a wolfish laugh.
My pussy throbs in response. At my whispered yes, he lifts me up until my boobs are on level with his mouth. His thumbs hold up my shirt while his mouth covers one aching nipple and his palm rubs against the other. I squeeze my legs together, wishing I’d pushed his head lower.
He must be able to read my mind—or my motions—because he slowly lowers me to the ground so he can press a hand between my legs. “You aching here?”
“Yes, right there.” I gasp as the heel of his hand grinds against my pelvic bone. Greedily, I thrust my hips forward.
“Right here in the p
ark?”
“Right here.” Why would I want to be anywhere else but here, in the dark, with Adam’s mouth on my breast, his fingers rubbing me through the jeans, pressing the thick seam into my damp, swollen lips?
“Right here,” I repeat.
“Shit, baby.” He rises in one smooth motion, his hand remaining hard against me. He braces a forearm against the tree above my head and bends to taste my lips. His fingers rub and stroke me until my body shudders and a small cry flies from my throat to be swallowed by his kiss. The orgasm races through me, throbbing in my blood, and I’m whimpering against Adam’s lips as I shudder with pleasure.