“Does my breath really stink?” I groaned.
“I don’t know. Let me check.” He gingerly placed his lips on mine, and despite my best efforts to hold my breath, I ended up melting into the sweet feeling of the moment, whimpering softly. I don’t know about my breath, but he tasted like mint. Sweet mint. Like the sweetest mint in the world.
“So sweet,” I gasped when he released my lips, resting his head on mine. The filter was still missing inside me, it seems.
He smiled and said, “Thanks. You taste like chicken.”
“Do I?!” I sampled a lot of the chicken as I was cutting it up. Darn it, I wish I had remembered to brush my teeth.
“I love chicken.” His deep laughter fanned my mortification, until he leaned in and kissed me again, this time deeper than before. His tongue pushed between my lips, and I moaned, no longer caring what I tasted like, as his sweet mint flavor overpowered all my senses. I leaned into him, gripping his shirt with both hands. His large hand encompassed the back of my head, holding me to him, commanding more.
My knees were weak by the time he pulled away, his green eyes swimming with smug affection. His face, his scent, his body, and the way his large body was holding mine did nothing to help my inability to think or filter my words.
“Wow. Just like an action hero,” I murmured.
He chuckled. “Your action hero.”
I mewled, and he laughed even deeper. Those green eyes of his glinted, watching me intently. His hand on the small of my back rubbed rhythmic circles that tingled up my spine. My swim bottoms were getting uncomfortable under my dress. If he kept this up, I was going to have to change into a new swimsuitbeforewe got in the pool.
“Speaking of action heroes,” I mumbled, trying to avert my gaze so I could think straight again. It wasn’t working out for me very well. “I, uh, set up our date in the backyard.”
“The backyard?” He leaned up and looked out the kitchen window.
I bit my bottom lip, nodding. He couldn’t see the pool or the projector screen I had set up beside it. I was thrilled to show him the plans I had been working on all week. “Help me carry out the food and I’ll show you.”
Vin laughed excitedly when the pool came into view. He set down the pan of enchiladas on the hot pads I had arranged in the center of the outdoor table and walked over to the projector. The first DVD box sitting beside it on the little table was none other thanRiddick.I have the older movies from the series in a pile beneath it.
My in-ground pool had a kiddy pool floating around on top of the water. I had the outdoor pillows and a few blanketsfrom the couch set off to the side, along with a pile of swim towels. The pool lights were glowing beneath the surface, and the waterfall was turned on, making the babbling sounds of water waft through the chilly night air. The pool was heated, and I even turned on the hot tub earlier today, so it was steaming, almost glowing with the fluorescent lights below.
“Of course it’sRiddick,” Vin said, lifting the first DVD box and waving it towards me. “This is awesome. Seriously.”
“Thanks,” I said giddily. “I saw it on a video and thought it looked fun.”
When we finished bringing all the food out, I felt the cold in the air. My teeth were on the verge of chattering, so I went to turn on the gas heater.
“Righty tighty, lefty loosey,” I muttered to myself, trying to remember the right way to turn on the gas. I’m usually not the one that does it. Nick never trusted me with gas or matches, or fire, and that rubbed off on Preston. Preston usually turns the outdoor heaters on for me now.
“Need some help?” Vin asked, squatting down next to me.
“I can get it,” I grunted, turning it too hard in the wrong direction for the fourth time while trying to push the ignitor button at the same time. “Maybe. Why won’t it light?”
“Hold down the gas valve after opening the tank.” Vin leaned in to show me the correct button. I pressed the button, and Vin leaned over me to turn the tank valve the right way, and I smiled sheepishly. I pushed the ignitor button again, and when I released the other button that Vin showed me out of frustration, he reached out to hold my finger in place for a few more seconds. Finally, the heater came to life. “Keep holding it for thirty more seconds or it will kill the flame.”
I did as he said, feeling accomplished for almost doing it on my own. No one else has ever shown me how to do it before.
“I did it!” I cheered, hopping on my feet.
Vin watched with amusement. “You did. Good job.” He had that look in his eyes again. The one that makes me blush and want to squirm.
My dancing died down, and I averted my gaze shyly. Being praised by such a big man while he looks at me like that isn’t helping my swimsuit bottoms situation.
After serving both of us a generous helping of enchiladas, I started the movie to play as we ate. However, neither one of us was very invested in watching it though. We talked as we ate, missing most of the first half of the movie.
“Damn, I want more,” Vin said, rubbing his belly after his second helping. “What do you season your food with? Crack? I can’t ever get enough.”
“Yep. It’s labeled “oregano” in my spice cabinet,” I giggled.
“Wrong drug,” Vin smirked.