My commitment to staying single is crumbling by the minute.
“Yeah,” I say but it comes out breathy.
We part ways, and CJ leads me down the sidewalk, our boots squeaking on the new snow.
“What’s your favorite pizza?” he asks.
“Veggie or margherita.”
“Are you a vegetarian?”
“I tried to be, but it got to be kind of an obsession, and…” Why am I talking about this? “It was better for me to stay flexible. I eat the meat Dad hunts, and when I was in the field I tried not to be picky since there weren’t alternatives.”
“I get that. Peanut butter can only get you so far.”
I laugh. “Speaking from experience?”
We turn the corner, and the hum of passing cars on the snowy road fades. “When your body is depleted from physical labor like field work or firefighting, you need dense calories, and a lot of ’em.”
It’s easy to imagine him in the yellow Nomex uniform fighting fire, his face so dark with soot the whites of his eyes are blinding. He’s breathing hard and sweaty from the exertion and the heat but determined.
Why is that hot?
He slips a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks his Dodge. Icatch sight of a gold medallion on his keychain. I can’t be sure, but Jesse owns something similar. So does Morgan.
Now his comment about always being the DD fits.
He opens the door and offers his hand to help me into the cab. Those flutters rip loose inside my chest again.
I gaze into his stormy gray eyes, my heartbeat throbbing lower with each thump. The snowflakes in his hair and the warmth of his expression make me want to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.If you ever want to not be careful again, do it with me.
It’s like he can read my thoughts, because he reaches up to caress my cheek ever so gently with his knuckles.
I slide my arms around his waist. His body is that same combination of strong and lean that I remember from the Sweetwater, making me want more, but it’s still confusing. Am I ready for more? My body is screaminghell yes, but my heart is tentative, and for good reason. Yet hasn’t CJ proven himself already? What if he really is one of the good guys?
A snowflake lands on my lashes, making me blink.
“Let me,” CJ whispers, and presses his lips to my cheek. His kiss is warm and soft on my skin, but the contact sends a shock of need straight to the hollow between my thighs. I hold him a little tighter, and he brushes his lips against my temple, then to my jaw. “You smell so good. Like apples, tart and sweet. It makes me wanna gobble you up.”
I release a sigh, but thanks to my galloping heart, it comes out shaky. My thoughts spin faster inside my head. I know I should say something sexy or witty, but I’m too tuned in to the feel of his body and his soft lips on my skin. Like he’s a spell I’m afraid to break.
He kisses the slope of my neck below my ear, releasing a sigh that sends another wave of pleasure rippling beneath my skin. I grip his waist tighter and tilt my head just a little, a shameless invitation for more because who doesn’t love a man willing to kiss them out in theopen like this while the silent snow drifts down and cars whoosh past?
His lips wrap around the edge of my earlobe, slippery and warm, and then his tongue flicks over the sensitive place behind it, making me jolt. It’s then I feel the hard ridge of his erection against me. That he’s already turned on, from just a few kisses, makes me feel wanted, and it’s almost as delicious as the way his lips and tongue are teasing my skin.
Nathan made me feel that his lack of interest in sex was my fault. It was all part of his manipulation, but I’m still ashamed of how hard I worked to please him.
Right now, I’m not working at all, I’m just feeling, letting this moment play into the next, and the next, and it’s…good. A little scary, but if I really dig deep, it feels…easy. Solid. True.
Like I can just be myself. Like I’m enough.
Not that I need a man to prove that to me, but experiencing it in real time feels pretty fucking awesome.
CJ’s nose slides into my hair while he kisses up my neck.
A whimper escapes my lips, and I tug him closer. I can’t help it. I want more of this feeling, of shelter and wildness all bundled into one. Of safety and desire entwining, interlocking.
Yet the voice in the back of my mind is starting to chirp—warning me not to get too wrapped in someone else, not to lose myself again. This is what people mean when they saylike a moth to the flame. I know I should keep a safe distance, but the delicious pull to get just a little bit closer is impossible to resist.