Page 7 of Wait For You

“You said you wanted a kiss.” My voice was guttural. I barely recognized myself.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this out of control. For a second, I thought it had to have been when I was in high school. That was different, though. Youthful, driven by the endless revving of the hormonal engine of adolescence and early adulthood, of the newness of it all.

The cynicism that scored my heart burned through every interaction since then. I’d always felt entirely under control with my hands firmly on the reins. This was beyond all of that. It was the desire cast into streaks of lightning, the winds of the storm blowing it wild and in unexpected directions.

Tessa blinked. “I did ask for a kiss.” Her low, throaty voice spun into the heat, nearly burning me up.

I scrambled inside, wanting to feel in control of the situation. Frankly, I wanted to just feel in control of myself. “Is that enough?”

As we stared at each other, it felt as if something shifted in the air around us and inside me, another door opening.

“No,” she said.

As I held her gaze, I thought I saw doubts casting shadows there. She lifted her chin, her tongue sliding across her bottom lip, sending a hot shot of blood to my cock.

“What do you want next?”

Chapter Five

Tessa

I knew from McKenna that Adam was the least likely of her brothers to get serious. I knew his story, even if he and I weren’t close. At four years older than McKenna, that was a chasm when we were younger. Adam’s girlfriend from high school had died during their freshman year in college. McKenna said he’d been truly devastated. She said he was too cynical to get serious again.

I didn’t want a relationship or anything remotely serious. I just wanted a chance to see if I could feel something other than numb. I felt more alive at this moment after a kiss from Adam than I’d maybe ever felt with a man.

Adam’s gaze bored into mine. Even though it was intense, I felt a thread of protectiveness in it. I didn’t know if it was conscious on his part. I gathered my courage, daring myself.

“More.” That was all I could manage to say.

Adam was quiet for an electrifying moment. Somewhere along the way, his knee had slipped between my thighs, and I could feel the subtle pressure on my clit. It was a sweet, piercing pressure. It was all I could do not to rock my hips.

If I was an expert at one thing, though, it was staying in control and managing every incremental response of my body. I held still until I began to tremble. His hand rested on the curve of my hip. He shifted it slightly, his touch almost soothing. I didn’t say a word, but it felt as if he could read my mind.

“It’s okay,” he said, his tone low.

The tension left my body in a whoosh on the heels of a breath.

“You don’t have to do anything. With me, that is,” he added.

Quiet fell between us, and I thought for a moment this would be where the conversation ended.

“Tell me what more means.”

I marshaled my composure and took a shaky breath. Tension began to buzz inside. “I don’t really…” I took another breath. All the while, he waited patiently. “I don’t want a relationship. I’ve already been married, and it was a disaster.”

Adam’s nod was almost imperceptible, and I didn’t sense any annoyance or impatience from him. I wasn’t used to someone waiting to let me explain. It unsettled me, but I forced myself to forge ahead.

“But I don’t want to be a nun. And for some reason, I trust you.”

His brows hitched up slightly. After a loaded moment of silence, his lips curled at the corners and my belly shimmied. “Well, of course, I don’t want to be a priest either. Or we could just say we don’t want to be celibate.”

I rolled my eyes slightly. I didn’t know why I felt so comfortable with Adam. Although he’d been in the periphery of my life when I was growing up, he and I weren’t what I would call friends. We were friendly.

“How come you never noticed me before?” I wanted to snatch the question back as soon as it slipped out.

But Adam took it at face value. “I don’t know. Maybe because when we were younger, you were my little sister’s friend. Because of our family, friends didn’t come to our house much. While I knew you were McKenna’s friend, you were in the distance, and—” His words cut off abruptly, and he shrugged again.

He didn’t need to elaborate on his family. To my knowledge, this generation of the Cannon family was close and loving. Maybe those bonds had been forged in the trauma their grandfather had meted out through abuse.

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