Page 87 of Wildest Dreams

“Do you know how desperate I am to stand in front of you, to wrap my arm around your back and pull you close?” I whisper.

She says nothing, just listens to me.

“How desperate I am to dust my lips up the column of your throat, to drag them across your collarbone and scatter butterfly kisses against your perfect skin?”

I swallow.

My throat suddenly dry.

“Do you know just how fuckingdesperateI am Dixie?” my voice is tight.

She shakes her head from side to side, her silky brown hair moving as she does.

Curling my finger, I call her over waiting for her to refuse, but she doesn't, she walks herself over to me, decanter of whisky loose in one hand, fingers pinched around the rim of the glass with the other. Her steps towards me are slow, lazy maybe but she looks hot as sin. My head tips back as I look up at her, and I lose myself in her eyes, her smile, her dimples... everything about her I lose myself in.

She leans forward, placing the decanter on the round side table next to me, her fingertips brushing against my chest as she slowly stands up, teasing me.

My eyes don't leave hers as we start a game of stare off.

Lifting my glass, I drain the remainder of my drink and let my glass hang off my knee. I watch as the minx smirks at me, tilting her head to the side as she brings her knee up, resting it between my legs, but she’s mindful not to touch my cast. I feel like a King about to be worshipped as I sit in the armchair, my leg resting on the footstool on top of a pillow.

“Head back, mouth open,” she whispers, breathing a little heavier and the smell of whisky surrounds me, consuming me as it mixes with her heavenly scent.

I do as she says, tilting my head back and all the time not lifting my hands to touch her. Even though I am desperate too.

But I want to see who breaks first in this little game of teasing we have going on. Hands still either side of me, glass still empty.

Opening my mouth, my eyes are burning into hers as she lifts the decanter and hovers it over my mouth, slowly pouring it past my lips and onto my tongue, my tastebuds exploding and before I can even swallow, her hand is on my cheek, tilting my head forward just as she locks her lips with mine, swirling the amber liquid between us as our kiss deepens, our tongues swirling, mixing our want and whiskey together.The perfect whiskey kiss.

She pulls away just as I swallow it down and a guttural groan vibrates through me.

Heart pounding.

Blood pumping.

Her whiskey laced eyes burning deep into my soul. Wild. So fucking wild.

“Kiss me again,” I rasp, the burn of the whiskey still coats my throat. Placing her glass and decanter on the table next to me, her lips pull into a smirk as her sole focus is back on me.

Her smile widens, and this time she leans down and straddles me, legs either side of my lap.

“Darlin,” my voice is low and raspy, her eyes locked with mine, her hands are on my face. “What are you doing to me?” I whisper.

“Loving you Tripp,” she leans into me, her kiss soft as my hands curl around her hips, fingers digging into the soft cotton material that clings to her body.

She breaks away for just a moment and my eyes volley back and forth, waiting for her to falter, but she doesn't. Her lipscurling into a smile before they're back on mine as she kisses me like it's the last kiss she'll ever give.

And this time, we don't hold back. We don't tease. We don't play.

We're all in.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

DIXIE

“Darlin',” he rasps, his voice tight and constricted, our eyes locked and loaded with each other’s, my hands cupping his handsome face. “What are you doing to me?” he whispers, the smell of whiskey on his warm breath surrounds me.

“Loving you Tripp,” I lean into him, a soft kiss dusting across his lips and I feel his hands on me,finallyon me. Hands curling around the curve of my hip, fingers pressing a little harder into my dress and I know I’ll have marks on my burning skin.

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