Finding Our Course (Finding our Way 3)
A sly grin slips across his face and he lowers himself down. His lips touch mine softly, pecking gently. Then he parts my lips with his tongue and moves his fingers to the base of my neck, pulling me closer. I open and accept him, tasting the mint of his toothpaste and a flavor that’s all him. Our tongues swirl together slowly at first, and then desire takes over and we devour each other. Clutching at his biceps, I silently beg him to never stop. This is the kiss I’ve waited for. My body is on fire wanting more but savoring every stroke.
His pelvis hits my hip, and I feel him hard and hot through his silk pajama pants. Never in my life has my body responded to the touch of a man like this. Grinding into him, I moan lightly as my aching core rubs against his thigh.
He slows our kiss and pulls back slightly, leaning his forehead against mine. Our deep breathing is in sync as we stare at each other. His eyes give me the sign, telling me he’s serious. Devotion, love, and passion are all the things I see as he rubs the back of my neck.
“That’s what happens next. Four and a half years I dreamed of kissing you again.”
My cheeks flush, remembering how awkward I must have been at fifteen with no experience at all.
“Tell me, Devon, do I have nice lips?”
“Yes.”
“Do I know what to do with them?”
Holy Shit! He heard my conversation with Quinn. I bury my face in his neck and nod.
“Good thing because I don’t want to be any part of that loser list. It’s my goal in life to make everything perfect for you from now on.”
“Don’t hurt me again, Bryce.”
“Baby, I’d kill myself before you ever felt another ounce of pain from me. I’m not perfect, but you will never doubt how I feel about you again.”
He rolls us over and kisses a small trail from my earlobe to my collarbone. I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
After Bryce’s declaration, my nerves are in a constant state of flutter. No one around me seems to notice, though. Our little group continues our routine: breakfast, skiing, naps, and games. Bryce still slips into my room every night and leaves by four a.m. We’ve spent countless hours making out, but he always stops me when I try to go further. Instead, he holds me tight, kissing me until I’m breathless, and continuously whispers sweets things in my ear until I fall asleep.
Today is actually Christmas Day, and for some reason, the guys left unusually early to run an errand. I stayed in my pajamas watching old movies with Mom and Sheila. It was almost noon when I jumped in the shower and then got ready for pictures. No matter where we are, family photos are a must on Christmas day.
I hear a few grunts and run into the main living room to see what’s happening.
“What the hell?” I shout as the four men try unsuccessfully to position a nine-foot tree into a stand.
“Loverboy here insisted on a tree! We’ve been all over Colorado trying to find this shit,” Nate cusses as he tries to fix the alignment.
“Fucking dipshit,” Bryce hisses, and when his eyes meet mine, they grow wide. His lips curl in a lopsided grin. His heated gaze sweeps over my body.
“Devon? You think you could put on some clothes?” my dad practically growls.
I look down and jump, turning away. My robe covers me, but it’s still short. Running back to my room, I yell, “To the right! It’s still crooked!”
My brother cusses again, and Bryce laughs.
I choose to wear a gold sweater ove
r black leggings and head back to help.
“Mom, what can I do?” I ask, walking into the kitchen.
“You can get in here and talk to Sheila and me now,” she whispers.
“What about?”
“How about the fact that in the twenty-seven years I’ve been married to your dad, and had two children, he’s never brought me a fully decorated tree, much less to a rented condo! Bryce orchestrated all of this.”
“What?”
“She’s right, Devon. Bryce is smitten. This is all for you.” Sheila slides her arm around my waist.