Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)

“What?”

“That everyone is loving Peck?”

I grip the blanket on either side of her like the lapels of a jacket. Her eyes go wide, and I tug her toward me.

My heartbeat kicks in high gear as the heat of her breath gets closer. The playfulness in her eyes hits me somewhere in my gut, and I set my defenses to the side, all the way, and just enjoy this moment in time.

“Does that ‘everyone’ include you?” I ask.

She wrinkles her nose. “I like Peck, yes.”

“I know you like him. Are you loving him?” I tease.

“Loving him? Well … no.”

I scoop her legs and lift her, pulling her onto my lap. She laughs, her eyes going wide, as she’s situated across me.

Her weight on me sends a fire ripping through me. The feel of her body on top of my groin is enough to make everything around me, except for her, completely invisible.

Fuck it. Fuck every reservation I have and every reason I can come up with not to take this any further.

I brush a strand of hair out of her face. “What are you loving these days, Had?”

“Let’s see,” she says, playing along. “I love pistachio ice cream. And this show about an office that’s on re-runs, but I missed it originally, so it’s new to me.” She taps her chin as though she’s in thought. “I also love deep purple nail polish for fall, but I haven’t had time to get a manicure in forever.”

“Great info.” I roll my eyes.

“It is, huh?”

“I was hoping for something more in-depth.”

She laughs. “There’s nothing shallow about nail polish, bud.”

“Noted.”

“Give me something in-depth, then. What are you loving these days, Mach?” she asks with a mega-watt smile.

“Burnt steak,” I say, earning a giggle. “Brothers who call before they show up. And I’m really into the Illinois Legends but haven’t had time to catch many games so far.”

“Sha-llow.”

As I watch, her eyes become flecked with green. Her lips part in an almost pout that sends a shock straight to my cock. Her ass presses down on my lap in a slow, controlled gesture that’s coupled with a hooded gaze.

I grip her hips. A swallow barely slips down my throat. “What are you feeling right now, Had?”

She stills. Her pupils dilate as her breathing gets heavy. “It’s a weird thing, actually. I feel … wanted. And I trust you enough to tell you that.”

That’s it. Her vulnerability, her willingness to trust me at this moment, is my undoing.

My hands run up the length of her sides, brushing against the mounds of her breasts on their journey to her face. She gasps at the contact of my palms against her beaded nipples. The quilt falls off her shoulders onto the porch floor.

The breeze rattles around us as if it is cheering us on. I cup her face in my hands and start to kiss her but pull back.

The clover bounces on her chest, her breath coming out in hurried wisps. She pulls her brows together, wondering why I didn’t kiss her, but too afraid to ask.

I’m probably going to hate myself tomorrow for this. I’m going to wake up and realize I’ve fought my whole life to avoid giving her too much hope when it comes to me. Yet there’s nothing I want more right now, need more right now, than to make her understand one fundamental thing.

The words claw at my throat, scraping away my defenses until they’re on the tip of my tongue.

“You are wanted,” I whisper, looking into her soul as deeply as I can. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, love.”

Her lips find mine in a kiss I feel in every cell of my damn body. For once, I trust her enough to let her take control.

I don’t try to protect her from me, keeping her at arm’s length to make it easier to break apart later. I succumb to her demands. When she presses, I open my mouth. When she swipes her tongue past my lips, I let her control the pace. When she wraps her legs around my waist and rests her forehead on mine, I relish the contact.

She’s so small, wrapped around me. But even so, I can feel the force that is Hadley Jacobs. I wonder if she’s always been like this, or if I’m just now seeing it.

A shiver ripples through her body, and I reach for the quilt and can’t quite get it. I pull her against me instead.

This will end too soon if I don’t stop it. And despite my surprise, I don’t want it to end.

“Hey,” I say, my breathing ragged.

“Hey, what?” she whispers against my neck.

“Can I interest you in a hot bath with a fancy fizzling thing Blaire left here at Easter?”

“Will you get in with me?”

An arm goes under her ass as I stand. “That was the plan.”