Page 26 of Boats, Moats, & Root Beer Floats

I swallowed hard. With anyone else the too-close factor would be too much, too fast. Even with Covin, when I first met him, mere days ago. Now…

Now, I leaned into him, rising up onto my toes, seeking his mouth on mine.

“Damnit, Lindy.” He kissed me hard and fast, pushing everything behind me off the table. Pens and other small things clattered to the floor as he lifted me up, stepping between my legs until I felt the evidence of his desire bulging against me. “Out, ghost,” he ordered, not taking his eyes off me as he broke the kiss for a breath, then dived back in.

A mewling sound worked its way along the back of my throat. I moaned softly into his mouth as he pushed my coat off, unwinding my scarf and tossing that aside. Shivers rippled over me at the sudden change in temperature, but he wasn’t done. My shirt went next and his mouth on my bare skin made up for what the lack of material didn’t.

I wound my hands through his hair, tugging him up gently but he refused to be deterred, hooking a finger through my bra strap and pulling the cup down to suck my nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the peaked bud as pleasure shot through me. I cried out softly, praying the ghost paid attention and left the room as Covin shifted, laying me back on the tabletop.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently, laving his tongue across my breasts.

I couldn’t suck in enough air to answer him, and after a moment I stopped trying. My nails dug into his shoulders through his shirt as he swapped sides, pinching and swirling and sucking until I unraveled in a hot mess in the middle of the castle kitchen.

His body pressed over mine, fully clothed, not that it stopped the pressure of his erection rubbing in exactly the right spot against my jeans. I cried out, biting my knuckles as I came in broad daylight in the middle of the kitchen, and I wasn’t even naked.

Panting and moaning, I barely registered as he gathered me into his arms, wrapping my clothes around me and rocking me against him.

“So beautiful,” he murmured over and over, massaging the back of my neck. “I want to worship you all over but later, Lindy. When I can take my time with you.”

I nodded into his shirt, inhaling the spicy scent of his sweat and the leathery-ness that clung to him I’d forever associate with my Dustman.

CHAPTER TEN

COVIN

We made dinner. I wasn’t skipping that step a second night in a row. Lindy let me tuck her into my side as I poured her a glass of red wine—actual red wine, not the port I found on the first night—and chattered quietly beside me in the kitchen.

A sense of normalcy enclosed us as snow fell outside in a thick coverage. I suspected we weren’t going to get that picnic in tomorrow after all. The silent whiteout provided a blanket between us and the world, blocking us off entirely.

Tonight, that wasn’t a sense I objected to in any capacity.

“Tell me you milked Buttercup,” Lindy said suddenly, stiffening.

I groaned, leaning back against the kitchen bench. “Oh, damn. So many Christmas trees…” I bit my lip to hide my smile.

“You irresponsible cow sitter.” Lindy’s eyes flashed for half a second.

Apparently I couldn’t hide shit around her.

“Not guilty,” I laughed as she slapped at me. I placed my wine glass behind me near a small basket of pinecones, ducked her next slap and caught her wrists, pulling her into me. “I milked the cow.”

“Promise?” She glared at me, as though those fiery eyes could extract any truth from my mouth to hers.

Actually, that wasn’t a bad thought. I cupped the back of her neck, pulling her in closer.

“Promise,” I murmured, slanting my mouth over hers.

She didn’t complain about my cow milking habits for a while after that. When I let her up for air, my heart pounding and my slacks too damn tight, she placed both hands on my chest and pushed.

“Stay. There,” she said, pointing at me with both hands like I’d been a bad dog.

“Staying,” I said obediently, checking her face for any sign I’d hurt her.

She shook her head, laughing. “I’m fine, Covin. And you’re sweet. Just…you’re a lot for a girl who hasn’t done anything like this for a little while. And the last guy wasn’t anything like you. At all,” she added with emphasis, backing up. Her hair trembled around her head as she shook it side to side. “Honestly, it’s fine. I just want to make dessert.”

I relaxed, leaning back to where I stood before. “Want a hand?”

“I’m good. Back in a sec.” She grabbed something from the freezer, rummaged in the fridge, and darted off.

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