“A whatta?”
“I said there’s a wanker in your yard! And it has a pair of big testicles!”
Nan tries to get up again, and I wince at how badly I feel about not going over to help her. Not to mention the fact that we TP’d the poor woman’s yard.
Betty finally notices Nan’s struggle and, with a huge growl, walks back over to the cart, unloads the scooter from the back lift with a switch at the side, and then helps Nan climb from the cart onto the scooter.
Finally back to the crime in question, Betty walks over to the yard penis, and Nan follows with a zip of her throttle. When Nan finally understands what Betty’s been talking about, she screeches, “Oh, for heaven’s sake! Is that huge rooster shooting a load of jizz on my lawn like a TP Ron Jeremy?”
Carly looks at me with wide, comical eyes, and between one blink and the next, her mouth morphs into the biggest fucking smile I’ve ever seen. And then, she buries her face into my chest when a snorting giggle pops up from her lungs.
“Don’t laugh,” I whisper down to her and wrap my arms around her body. “If you laugh, you’re going to make me laugh.”
Obviously, my order only makes her lose more of her hold on her tenuous control, which only makes her bury her face more into my chest.
Shit. I hold a hand over my mouth and try like hell not to lose it. I mean, I feel badly that we’re picking on women twice our age.
But it’s really hard not to find the humor in Betty and Nan shouting at each other about dicks and balls and porno flicks.
“Shit, Carly. I’m not sure whether I should be pissed at you or kiss you for dragging me into this.”
My words draw her gaze back to mine, and all threats of laughter subside.
With our eyes locked, it feels like time stands still and everything around us doesn’t exist.
Carly stares at my mouth, and her tongue sneaks out and licks across her bottom lip.
Fuck me. There’s no denying my body’s feelings about this woman anymore. Any lawyer worth their salt has already logged my hardening dick as compelling and irrefutable evidence and presented it to judge and jury.
“Kiss me,” Carly whispers suddenly, leaning up and toward me by standing up on her tippy-toes. “Kiss me, please.”
Her words are my undoing.
I slip my fingers in between the silky strands of her red hair and pull Carly’s mouth to mine.
As our lips make contact, a soft little moan escapes her throat, and every cell in my body expands to absorb the sound of it. Her mouth is soft and warm and fucking perfect, and I have to have more of it—more of her. I deepen the kiss, slipping my tongue into her mouth and reaching down to grip her perfect ass in my hands.
She responds with fervor, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and hopping up to close her legs around my waist. God, she feels good.
Tastes good, smells good, makes me want to rip her jeans down and slide directly inside her.
I’ve kissed plenty of women in my tenure, but in all thirty-nine years of my life, I’ve never felt the kind of mind-numbing, all-consuming passion I feel right now.
I’m so tempted to keep this going. To keep kissing her. To taste and smell and touch every fucking square inch of her body.
But we’re in a stranger’s yard. Across the street from two old women who, by the sound of things, are still trying to come to a resolution over citations and cleanup, and I can feel the prickle of a branch hitting me in the side of my jaw.
This is definitely not the right time or the place, but I swear on everything that’s holy, I’m going to make sure I find a better one soon. If I don’t, the chemical makeup of my body as I know it will never be the same, instead overrun with enough testosterone to make my heart explode.
“Carly,” I whisper as I pull my mouth away from hers and abruptly end the kiss, setting her away at enough of a physical distance that my dick gets the very cruel message. “We can’t.”
“What?” Still hazy from our tangle, she blinks several times, trying to make sense of my words.
“Not here,” I whisper. “Not behind a fucking bush.”
She searches my eyes, annoyance evident in the tiny frown on her lips. “You know, it’s okay to let go sometimes, Ryan. Not every fucking moment of your entire life has to be rationally thought-out and perfect, for God’s sake!”
Her words sting a little, especially since they’re not what’s happening here at all, but I’m not the one whose feelings I’m worried about.
Carly shoves by me, making my shoulder rock back and my body spin as she takes off out from behind the trees, through the yard, and out into the dark street once she’s past the glow of the streetlight in front of Betty’s and Nan’s.