Page 29 of Hyde

The call ends before I can reply and just as I try to hit redial, Joe yanks it out of my hand.

“No! I have to tell Dad…”

“He knows, Le-Lee. And he damn well doesn’t want you taking the chance.”

I know Joe’s right, but it doesn’t help the fear and frustration I feel. Terrified that I’ll never get another opportunity to say it.

Without another word, Joe wraps his arm around my waist and we walk in step back to the cabin.

Chapter 8

Leslee

By the next morning, the weather has turned and the rain continues for the next couple of days, leaving us no choice but to play all the board games that have been tucked away, some seemingly for years.

With each roll of the dice, the tension between us builds.

Every time his hand brushes mine, I feel a tingle. And not just where our skin touches. Sometimes, I have to shift my arm, hoping he won’t notice how my nipples tighten or I shift in my seat, clenching my pelvic muscles together.

As the hours tick by, the less we say to each other.

“Damn it,” Joe growls when the dice he just rolled slide off of the table. I reach down to pick them up, lifting my eyes to his face when I hear him groan.

His brown eyes look darker than ever, glued as they are to where my V-neck shows off my cleavage.

“Fuck it,” I respond, leaving the dice where they lay and stand up.

Quickly skirting the table, I straddle his lap before he can figure out my intent. Sliding my hand up into his hair, I see his eyes widen in surprise just as I slam my lips down onto his.

Joe feels like granite under my touch. I might as well be kissing a statue and almost snicker when I crack one of my eyes open enough to see his hand suspended in mid-air.

Which means, he’s not pushing me away.

This man is mine and the sooner he acknowledges it, the better chance we’ll have of surviving the storm once we return home.

Assuming we live that long. And as of this moment, I’ve decided it’s my God-given rightnotto die a virgin.

I thrust my pelvis forward, grinding it down over the protrusion I feel through his jeans and nibble on his bottom lip.

Mom does it to Dad all the… Eww… Okay… La la la… Blocking them out of my mind.

That’s when a sigh escapes him, giving me the shivers as it hits the moisture on my lips. Continuing to rub the seam of my shorts against the hardness forming on the other side of his zipper, I press my breasts into his chest and dart my tongue past his lips to taste him for the first time.

Joe’s tongue slowly wraps around mine and I nearly cry in relief. Then he finally moves his arm, threading his fingers into my hair and taking control of our kiss.

Where he was granite a few moments ago, some switch has flipped and he’s all fire now. Joe’s other hand is massaging its way from my knee up my leg. Reaching down, I grab the bottom of my T-shirt and pull it up, breaking our kiss only long enough to rid myself of that garment.

I’m woefully unprepared for this make-out session, try as I may to focus on the dance of our tongues, interspersed with the gentle kisses he gives me which allow me to catch my breath.

When I reach up to release the clasp of my bra, he grabs my hand, holding it in place.

“Leslee,” he gasps out my name, shaking his head at the same time.

Terrified that he’ll deny me what I want most in this world, my eyes meet his and I’m ashamed the moment I feel the tears welling up.

“I need you, Joe.” I instantly decide that I despise the pleading tone in my voice more than the unshed tears in my eyes.

As we stare into each other’s eyes, neither one of us blink.

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