Page 120 of One Touch

He split my soul. He screwed my brain. He thrust so deep, came so hard, and I exploded over him, panting and powerless, completely his.

“Damn,” he groaned.

“Damn,” I echoed.

Chapter 20

Ethan

Iwoke up witha sledgehammer pounding inside my skull. Grunting, I rolled over—only to bump into something warm and soft.

I found myself staring at a cascade of copper hair flowing across my white pillow.

Lily. In my bed. Naked.

For a moment I watched her. The slow rise and fall of her full chest, the gentle pursing of her pink lips as she breathed, the pink of her nipples against her pale skin. She wasn’t just beautiful. She was fucking perfect.

Fragments of last night came rushing back. The boat. The moonlight. The engine room. Her lips on mine. Her body against mine. The way she’d looked at me when I told her that she made me feel.

Fuck. What had I done?

You make mefeel,Lily.

Christ, I was an idiot when I drank.

Lily stirred, her sapphire eyes fluttering open. Before I could think better of it, I leaned in and kissed her softly.

“Morning,” I mumbled against her lips.

She pulled back, a shy smile playing on her face, and then a frown crumpled her gorgeous face. “I feel like I’ve had a fight with a bear. A bear who’s also a bartender.”

“A bear-tender.”

Lily laughed, then winced. “No jokes when I’m hungover.” She paused. “Oh god. I taste of tiki bar.”

“Well, somehow, you still smell of strawberries.”

We stared at each other for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. Lily’s gaze, unobscured by her usual glasses, held me captive. Without her lenses, her eyes were like tide pools – deep, mysterious, and ever-changing in the shifting light.

I found myself lost in the flecks of gold swimming in her irises, details I’d never noticed before. This Lily, raw and unfiltered, was a rare sight. A privilege.

“So,” Lily said, breaking the silence. “Last night was really something.”

I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. “We broke a rule. You slept in my bed.”

“That wasn’t the only rule we broke.”

“Right. We slow danced.”

“And we . . . said stuff to each other.”

My heart pounded. “We did.”

“We were pretty drunk,” she offered, biting her lip.

I nodded, grateful for the out she was giving me. “Very drunk. Maybe the rules are more . . . fluid when we’re drunk?”

“Not that it wasn’t. . . .” She trailed off, her cheeks flushing.

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