She doesn’t.
Instead, her hand slides up my chest, fingers curling at my collar, and her voice is steady when she answers, “Don’t stop.”
That’s all it takes.
The restraint I’ve been clinging to snaps clean in half. This time, it’s me kissing her. It isn’t hesitant. It’s deliberate. Claiming. My mouth moves over hers like I’ve memorized it already, like I’ve been rehearsing this in my head for weeks.
Because I have.
And when she kisses me back, she’s not shy, not unsure, but fully here with me. This isn’t one-sided. Neither one of us takes this moment lightly. It’s something we’re choosing.
Together.
The hand that’s still wrapped around her waist slides beneath her shirt. My movements are slow as I savor the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips. I take my time, exploring her softness, giving her time to tell me to stop or push me away, but my Mandy, she does the opposite. Her grip on my shirt grows tighter, and she tugs me closer.
Still, I don’t venture to explore more of her soft skin, not wanting to push her too far.
“More,” she breathes against my lips, and my body tightens with how badly I need her, but still, I don’t make a move. I’m content to stand here and kiss her.
I’ve never been one for attachments, not since my divorce. I had my shot, but it didn’t work out. I threw all of myself into my job. That singular focus kept my life orderly and uncomplicated.
This should feel complicated, but it doesn’t. It just feels right, like this is where I was always meant to be. It’s scary, overwhelming, and confusing in the best of ways, yet none of that is reason enough to step away from her.
She runs her hands up my chest and locks them behind my neck. She rises on her tiptoes, and on instinct, I’m reaching for the back of her thighs, lifting her. Her back presses against the wall as she wraps her arms and legs around me. My hard length is nestled between her thighs, and she moans as she rocks against me.
The control I’ve been clinging to shifts from resistance to acceptance. She’s here in my arms, she’s not pushing me away, and I don’t have the power to stop us either. Her fingers slide into my hair, and she presses her lips to mine.
Without question, I open for her, letting her set the pace. Her ass cheeks are gripped in my palms, her pussy is grinding on my cock, and even through the layers of clothing between us, I can feel her heat.
Her lips pressed to mine affect me unlike anything else ever has. Everything I’ve been holding back explodes at once. The desire, the fear, the longing, and most of all the need I have for her. It’s all overwhelming in the best way.
She’s everything.
Every breath we share is ragged. Every heartbeat feels like a powerful kick inside my chest. I allow myself to get lost in her. The concept of time disappears. There’s nothing but the two of us and this shared passion we’ve found ourselves indulging in.
This kiss isn’t gentle, but it’s not rough and careless either. Every brush of our lips, every stroke of our tongues, is deliberate. We’re learning each other with every moment that passes.
When I finally pull back, coming up for air, she presses her forehead against mine. We’re both struggling to catch our breath. Slowly, I open my eyes in time to watch her lift her head, and her eyes flutter open.
“This changes things,” I finally say, my voice raspy with my desire for her.
“She’s going to hate me.”
I shake my head. “No, she won’t.” She might hate me, though, and I don’t want to lose my daughter, not when I just got her back, but there’s a selfish side of me that doesn’t want to lose Amanda either. I’ve never felt this way before. Never been consumed with this overwhelming need for a woman to the point that nothing else matters.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell her, because that’s the best I’ve got.
“I should go.”
“Stay. Just a little longer.”
She hesitates before she nods. I kiss her lips softly before lowering her to the floor, taking her hand in mine, and leading her back downstairs. Guiding her to the couch, I make sure to turn on the receiver to the baby monitor, then take a seat next to her, pulling her onto my lap.
“I just want to hold you.” Her body relaxes into mine, and that’s how we spend the next hour. I hold her, stealing kisses like a teenager with his first crush.
“As bad as I hate to say this, it’s getting late. I know I won’t be able to convince you to stay, and I don’t want the two of you out on the roads this late, let alone later.”
“We’ll be fine,” she assures me. She bites down on her bottom lip, and I free it with my thumb.