Page 34 of Insta-Love

“I do.”

No pressure. No complaints.

Nope. This time there’s no doubt who’s in charge as her small hands knot in the front of my shirt and pull me closer. I taste the coffee on her, but moreover the need as she tilts her head and deepens the kiss. It’s a slow exploration on her behalf, as though she’s forgotten how to connect with a man this way. Her lips stall, her kiss hesitant before she comes back for more. A small hum sounds in her throat as she quickens the pace, steals more heat.

You’re doing fine, baby.

If I knew this is how she showed want, how she demonstrated need, then fuck it all I would have kissed her that first day just to shut her up.

Whoever that fuckhead was that gave her Lily, he clearly didn’t know what he had.

Because this woman is fire.

And goddamn I love the burn.

Her breaths come heavy and fast as she pulls away and ducks her chin to rest her forehead against my mouth. Those hands are still knotted in my shirt, only now they tremble.

“I should get home.”

“Should.” Doesn’t have to, though.

She says no more—simply disengages from me and ducks under my arm to head for the door. I rest my face against my bicep and watch her from behind my arm.

The flush in her cheeks is undeniable as she hesitates at the door and gives me a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

Somehow, I don’t think either of us were talking about the ride.

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