Page 64 of Make Me Want it Too

She chews on the inside of her cheek. “My feet hurt. These heels are uncomfortable. I knew they were uncomfortable, but they’re cute. I know I shouldn’t have worn them. It’s my own fault?—”

“Take them off.”

“We’re on a multi-million dollar yacht and you want me to take my shoes off?”

“I want you to be comfortable.”

“You wouldn’t be embarrassed by me?”

“What? Never. Who cares if you’re not wearing shoes?”

She glances over my shoulder. “Many people over there would.”

“Fuck them.” I kneel and start undoing the clasps around her ankles. She slides her feet out and kicks them off to the side. “Now you’re free,” I say.

I lift her arm and spin her in a circle. The skirt of her dress twirling around her knees. I swing her away and then back into my arms. She lets out a little laugh, her face alight.

“There she is,” I whisper.

We sway and dance in slow circles as the sun gets lower and the sky turns pink. No fancy dance steps. My ballroom instructor of two years, Ms. LaFleur, would not be impressed. Not that I ever really impressed her.

Macy’s relaxed. She looks up at me with a real smile, and I want to remember this moment forever. Memorize her face and every freckle and stray hair blowing in the breeze, the way she smells and the way she feels in my arms.

“I want to kiss you again,” I whisper.

Her eyes widen. “You do?”

“Yes,” I chuckle. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know, I just?—”

I lower my voice. “I’m going to be kissing a lot more than just your lips in a little while.”

Her cheeks turn crimson and the pulse point on her neck is beating faster along with her quickening breaths. As she looks up at me, her pupils are dilated, and she licks her lips in anticipation.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I whisper as I lean in and touch my lips to hers.

She goes up on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around my neck to kiss me back. None of the trepidation from our first kiss.

I hold her closer, deepening the kiss, our mouths opening in tandem so our tongues can lazily explore each other. Unhurried.

Her soft sighs are sweet against my lips. Her body, even softer, melting against me.

I am not soft. I’m hard, and part of me hopes she doesn’t notice my erection pressed against her stomach. The other part of me knows she feels it and loves how she’s not pulling away. In fact, I think she’s pushing against it purposefully. It makes my balls tighten and ache.

She sucks on my tongue, and I can’t help but groan. I’ve never wanted anything more—anyone more—than her.

I pull away to catch my breath and put my hand to her cheek. Her eyes are half lidded, lips are darkened and puffy from the kiss. I drag my thumb along her bottom pouty lip. Suddenly, I want to know what they’d look like with my cock slipping between them. What she’d look like just properly fucked—glowing and beautiful with her hair spread across the pillow.

But I’ll settle for knowing what she looks like just properly kissed—a serene smile on her face. And soon, what she looks like after I make her come.

Movement catches my eye and I look up. Spencer is above us on the bridge deck, elbows on the railing and glaring down at us through his punchable little glasses.

I go back to kissing her.

The staircase up to our room seems never ending, like trying to go up the down escalator. My hand on the rail is sweaty. Macy is just ahead of me, barefoot, her shoes in my other hand.

“How are you feeling?” I ask when we finally reach the top of the landing.

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