When she pulled away from him, she tugged on his hand and led him out from under the covered patio and over the grass.
“Chelle.” Smooth gravel churning in warm, thick honey.
Was he having second thoughts?
No. He didn’t hesitate as they approached the small metal shed that held her mower and gardening tools. When he realized where they were headed, he picked up the pace, now pulling her along.
As soon as they turned the corner, as soon as they were out of sight from the house, he spun her around and drove his fingers into her hair, smashing their lips together, sliding his tongue through her mouth.
A claim. That was what it seemed like.
Their lips moved, their tongues tangled and when they finally paused, they both had to suck in air.
His touch, his kiss, was electric.
She wanted more.
So much more.
Her heart thumped heavily as his fingertips traced her face. Over her forehead, down her nose, over her lips. They curled around her throat, pausing directly over her wild pulse.
In the dark shadows of the night, she couldn’t see his face clearly, couldn’t see his expression or the intensity of his eyes.
She regretted that.
She wanted to experience him fully. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.
Not tonight.
Maybe not ever.
Even so, she’d take what she could get. What he was willing to give.
While the September night was warm, she still shivered when he began to release the buttons of her shirt, starting from the top. He did it with excruciating slowness, his knuckles skimming along her heated skin until her shirt gaped open only enough to expose her bra.
His fingers hovered over her bare skin. They weren’t touching her, but his energy was.
Holy shit, if he didn’t touch her soon, she’d combust.
She blew out a breath and his gaze lifted from the top curves of her breasts to her face.
“Chelle.”
Every time he said her name like that it sent a charge through her. Her nipples were painfully peaked and piercing her bra, just begging for his touch.
They didn’t have all the time in the world, so she grabbed his T-shirt at the waist, quickly tugging it from his jeans. But before she could drag it any higher, he snagged her wrists and shoved her backward until she made contact with the shed, causing the metal siding to bow and the breath to rush from her lungs. He gathered both of her wrists in one hand and pinned them over her head against the shed, taking her mouth again.
Very, very thoroughly.
While he plundered her mouth, his free hand splayed over her chest, finally making contact, and... paused. She was sure he could feel her rapid heartbeat, maybe even hear it, too.
Finally, he slid his hand into her bra, cupping her left breast and pulling it free.
God, he was moving so slowly! His movements were as unhurried and deliberate as he spoke. He had to be doing it on purpose to drive her nuts. She wanted to scream at him to pinch her nipple, touch it, suck it. Anything. Anything!
He was torturing her by kneading her breast within his fingers but avoiding her rock hard nipple.
Please. Please!
He must have heard her begging him in her head because his thumb brushed over the very beaded tip. Once. Twice.
The third time her pussy clenched so hard, she gasped in his mouth.
He needed to fill her emptiness before she went totally mad.
He rolled the aching tip between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her whimper to get caught in his mouth. He did it again and then plucked it before moving to the other bra cup and freeing that breast, too.
Arching her back, she attempted to get closer to him. She ripped her mouth from his and panted, “Shawn...”
He stiffened at her saying his name.
Did she do something wrong?
It was quickly forgotten when he dropped his head and drew his tongue over one nipple as he played with the other. He switched again. Sucking, twisting. Tugging, pinching. All of it driving her to the brink.
She’d missed this... She didn’t realize how much she needed it. Until now...
“Please,” she begged in barely a whisper. He had to hurry.
Her belly was on fire, her breath caught in her throat and wetness trickled from between her legs, soaking her panties and the cotton of her leggings.
She had to get them off.
She needed to touch him. But that was impossible since he still held onto her wrists.
As if reading her mind again, he let go and she was suddenly free.
Before she could scramble to undress, he was tucking his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and jerking them, and her panties, down in one shot. He wasn’t gentle about it but almost frantic.
She didn’t care, she was relieved he was moving faster.
He rolled them down her legs and she kicked off her flip-flops so he could finish removing the leggings. Of course, he took his time rising. Running his fingers and his mouth up her legs and shoving the long shirt tails out of the way to press his nose into the apex of her thighs.