Page 57 of Born to Make You Smile

He’s hard

I’m soft

We move

As one

He fills me up

I scream his name

He’s gone

I’m alone

Lust fades

Into dark

EIGHTEEN

“That was beautiful, Grace,”Gavin praised with a pleased grin after I’d read the poem to him. “But now, tell me, is that poem about anyone in particular?”

I nodded a slow and steady nod.

He knew.

He wanted me to say it.

“Y-you,” I stuttered, the alcohol pulling the word out of my mouth. “That poem is about you. They all are. Every single one.”

He stared at me in silence. Each second seemed like an hour waiting for him to speak. My brain was spinning, thinking of the poems and him having the confirmation that they were about him. My eyes ran over his face, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Grace.” He paused again, looking as though he was collecting his thoughts. “I tried everything to push my feelings for you way down. But ever since we shared that kiss, I can’t stop thinkingabout you. In ways I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about you. And when you admitted there was no spark and that kissing me was weird, to be honest, part of me was disappointed. I also felt foolish. That maybe every feeling I had for you was one-sided. But now, it seems that might not be the case if the poems are, in fact, a reflection of your true feelings for me. Are they?”

I nodded, then whispered, “Yes.”

He shifted his body closer, and his heavenly scent invaded my senses.

His eyes darkened, and I shivered with anticipation, my heart throbbing as if I stood on the edge of a cliff.

“I was lying about the lack of spark when we kissed,” I admitted. “There was so much spark that it was an explosion.”

He lifted a hand, brushing a curl out of my face. A bolt ran through me, striking me between my legs. The electricity between us could light up the entire city of Ottawa.

“I'm going to kiss you now. I just need your okay. Because, as much as I want to be a gentleman, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once we start.”

I nodded, my head spinning.

“I need you to say it. Please say yes.”

“Y-yes.”

I barely got the word out before he pulled my face and started to kiss me furiously. Frantically. The kiss was not polite. It was taking, possessive, hungry. Our champagne-coated tongues intermingled in passion. We devoured each other as if we were caged animals finally being released. He gently nibbled my bottom lip, and I whimpered. Then he pulled my body on top of his with a grunt so my thighs were nestled on either side of him.

I was on top of him, and he was hard.

Rock hard.

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