harlots?”
“He’s a bit of a player,” she said.
“He’s not playing them if they’re aware of the situation and agree to it.”
She nodded while her mind reeled. They hadn’t had any serious conversations, at least none in the English language. They hadn’t spoken about tomorrow, or after the cabin, or what, exactly, they were doing. Was this a situation? Was she “aware” of it, and by lack of denial, agreeing to it?
She sensed their stolen moments meant as much to Eric as they did to her, but maybe she sensed wrong. Maybe they were on different pages, or hell, reading entirely different books. Maybe this was only a physical thing for him, another wondrous notch in his belt as he told lies with his body.
She shook the thought away. She refused to ruin this weekend with her self-doubt. She’d already made a deal with herself to save all serious conversations for after the blizzard. That way she could escape any awkwardness from his rejection by going home.
Eric repeated “harem of harlots” under his breath again and shook his head. He polished off the rest of the food.
She pulled dessert from her pocket and placed it on the table beside Eric’s plate.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Candy hearts. They’re a Jones tradition. I brought a bunch of packages to binge on during my read-athon.” Wow, did her plans for this weekend change.
“I love these things.” He snatched the package from the table’s smooth surface. After ripping it open, he pulled out the candies, one by one, reading their messages before placing them in a pile.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “That’s not how you eat them!”
She reached out to grab the candy, but he batted her hand away playfully.
“Relax. There’s more than one way to eat something.” He waggled his brows at her.
“Pig.”
“Not what you called me last night.”
She bit her lip. “Seriously, though. That’s not—”
“Shhh.”
He continued the practice until he pulled out a pink heart, no different than any of the previous pink hearts he’d placed in the pile, and smiled.
“Aha!” He held it up and glanced at her. His brows pinched together, and his mouth compressed into a thin line before he turned to her. His expression softened, but remained serious.
“It’s just candy,” she said.
“Not to me,” he replied. “I want you to have this.”
He held out his hand, palm open. She plucked the candy up and flipped it around in her fingers.
BE MY LOVE stared back at her.
Something expanded in her chest. Something warm and delicious. She glanced up to find Eric smiling, hesitantly, as if unsure of her response.
She bit her lip again. “I think I am already.”
Eric surged forward and grasped her head between both large hands. His mouth found hers. His tongue plunged in. The force of his kiss almost knocked her off the chair, but he scooped her up and gently lowered her to the hard floor instead. The chair tipped back and clattered against the floor beside them.
In seconds, he had her undressed and splayed as he thrust into her. Every nerve ending hummed with pleasure, with the feeling of how right this moment was.
****
Eric walked down the stairs with weightless shoulders and a spring in his step. As the storm outside abated during their second night together, Eric and Brenna worked through his wish list—or at least made a heroic effort. It was, after all, a long and ambitious list.
Between sharing their dreams and cuddling while they slept, entangled in each other’s limbs, they made love—almost as if a sense of urgency drove them to get everything out of this weekend, almost desperate and frenzied, as if they both feared leaving the cabin would dispel some or all of the magic they’d created inside.
Well, he refused to let that happen. Despite promising to wait until the storm blew over for any serious conversations, he’d initiated the conversation, with candy of all things. Smooth, Buchanan. His lack of
“He’s a bit of a player,” she said.
“He’s not playing them if they’re aware of the situation and agree to it.”
She nodded while her mind reeled. They hadn’t had any serious conversations, at least none in the English language. They hadn’t spoken about tomorrow, or after the cabin, or what, exactly, they were doing. Was this a situation? Was she “aware” of it, and by lack of denial, agreeing to it?
She sensed their stolen moments meant as much to Eric as they did to her, but maybe she sensed wrong. Maybe they were on different pages, or hell, reading entirely different books. Maybe this was only a physical thing for him, another wondrous notch in his belt as he told lies with his body.
She shook the thought away. She refused to ruin this weekend with her self-doubt. She’d already made a deal with herself to save all serious conversations for after the blizzard. That way she could escape any awkwardness from his rejection by going home.
Eric repeated “harem of harlots” under his breath again and shook his head. He polished off the rest of the food.
She pulled dessert from her pocket and placed it on the table beside Eric’s plate.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Candy hearts. They’re a Jones tradition. I brought a bunch of packages to binge on during my read-athon.” Wow, did her plans for this weekend change.
“I love these things.” He snatched the package from the table’s smooth surface. After ripping it open, he pulled out the candies, one by one, reading their messages before placing them in a pile.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “That’s not how you eat them!”
She reached out to grab the candy, but he batted her hand away playfully.
“Relax. There’s more than one way to eat something.” He waggled his brows at her.
“Pig.”
“Not what you called me last night.”
She bit her lip. “Seriously, though. That’s not—”
“Shhh.”
He continued the practice until he pulled out a pink heart, no different than any of the previous pink hearts he’d placed in the pile, and smiled.
“Aha!” He held it up and glanced at her. His brows pinched together, and his mouth compressed into a thin line before he turned to her. His expression softened, but remained serious.
“It’s just candy,” she said.
“Not to me,” he replied. “I want you to have this.”
He held out his hand, palm open. She plucked the candy up and flipped it around in her fingers.
BE MY LOVE stared back at her.
Something expanded in her chest. Something warm and delicious. She glanced up to find Eric smiling, hesitantly, as if unsure of her response.
She bit her lip again. “I think I am already.”
Eric surged forward and grasped her head between both large hands. His mouth found hers. His tongue plunged in. The force of his kiss almost knocked her off the chair, but he scooped her up and gently lowered her to the hard floor instead. The chair tipped back and clattered against the floor beside them.
In seconds, he had her undressed and splayed as he thrust into her. Every nerve ending hummed with pleasure, with the feeling of how right this moment was.
****
Eric walked down the stairs with weightless shoulders and a spring in his step. As the storm outside abated during their second night together, Eric and Brenna worked through his wish list—or at least made a heroic effort. It was, after all, a long and ambitious list.
Between sharing their dreams and cuddling while they slept, entangled in each other’s limbs, they made love—almost as if a sense of urgency drove them to get everything out of this weekend, almost desperate and frenzied, as if they both feared leaving the cabin would dispel some or all of the magic they’d created inside.
Well, he refused to let that happen. Despite promising to wait until the storm blew over for any serious conversations, he’d initiated the conversation, with candy of all things. Smooth, Buchanan. His lack of
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