Page 71 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

I shake my head, dropping her hand and leaning across the center console to place my face close to hers. “Will you ever drop the grumpy nickname? You make me sound like one of Snow White’s dwarves.”

Emma laughs, the sound like a melody. “Oh my god. Now I can’t get the mental picture of you whistling and marching through the meadow out of my head.”

“What am I going to do with you, Emma Turner?”

“Take me inside.”

I smile before leaning in and stealing a kiss. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” I respond as I pull away.

I’m quick at opening my door and rounding the car so I can open hers. She waits for me to open it, eagerly taking my outstretched hand as I help her out of her seat.

We’re quiet as we walk to the front door. She doesn’t stop and turn to face me at the door like she has in the past. She goes straight to pressing the code into the lock. The door swings open, and she takes a step inside. I wait at the doorstep, not sure if I’m supposed to go back to the guest house or if I can go inside and spend all night taking my time with her.

She turns to shut the door and frowns when she finds me still standing on the welcome mat. “Why aren’t you coming in?”

“You didn’t invite me in.”

“Are you a vampire? Come in, Preston.” She dramatically waves me forward with a roll of her eyes.

I stare at her, confused as I step inside. “What? No, I’m not a vampire. I was just trying to be a gentleman.”

She closes the door before leaning against it. Her purse drops to the ground with a soft thud as she keeps eye contact with me. “I don’t want you to be a gentleman. You’ve been making promises all day about what you want to do to me, Rhodes. It’s time you make good on your promises.”

I swallow as the playfulness between us seems to disappear, replaced with a thick sexual tension as my mind races with all the things I said I wanted to do to her once I got her alone again.

Emma lifts a foot and begins to undo one of her heels.

“No,” I speak up, my voice echoing off the high ceilings of the entryway. “The heels stay on.”

She smiles before putting her foot back down. Her fingers drift up her thighs as she bunches the smooth fabric of the yellow dress. “And what about this?”

My pulse thumps erratically in anticipation of what’s to come. I’ve been dreaming about getting that damn dress off her all night, and now’s the time.

“The dress needs to come off. Now.”

I close the distance between us, taking her face in my hands and yanking her to me. She yelps, but her mouth is still ready for me the moment our lips connect. Her hands drop from her dress and instead grab at the lapels of my suit jacket. She tugs me lower as her mouth opens up even wider for me.

She’s been thinking about doing this again as much as I have, and I fucking love it.

I grab the fabric of her dress and begin to lift it up, needing to see every naked inch of her again. She grabs me by the hands. “Wait,” she pants, her breaths becoming more labored by the second.

“What is it?”

“Make one more promise to me before we do this again.”

I kiss along her collarbone, loving the taste of her skin against my tongue. “I’ll promise you anything you want, rebel.”

“Don’t leave tonight. After this happens—” She lets out a shaky breath. “After we do this again, just tell me you’ll stay after.”

My lips pause against her shoulder at the vulnerability in her tone. I straighten my spine and bring my eyes to hers. “I’ll be here in the morning, Em. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I promise you that.”

CHAPTER 36

EMMA

I wake up from the most peaceful sleep I’ve ever gotten to a strong arm wrapped around my middle. Warmth surrounds me from Preston’s solid body behind me. He’s got me tucked against him so we touch almost all the way from head to toe. Even my foot is trapped between us underneath the sheets as if he was trying to get every point of contact possible.

Aunt V once went through a phase where she wanted to talk about people’s different love languages. We’d go out to eat and watch people around us, trying to guess what we thought theirs was. It’s something I still do, and with how much Preston always seems to make sure our bodies are making contact, I’d bet his love language is physical touch. And I love that. Anytime our skin no longer touches, I miss the heat of his body.

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