Page 68 of Revved up & Ready

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” she says.

Good.

“Any chance you’re ready?” I ask, like it’s an idea of when, not if.

She holds my stare for a long moment, but this time I stay with her, watching as the wheels turn in her mind, and she decides if she—

“Yes.”

She said yes.

It was a long shot, but I had to take it.A second time.No risk,no story.But this isn’t about a story I’ll tell, it’s about the story that’s been unfolding between Sadie and me long before either of us ever realized it.

My hands bracket her hips, and I lift her onto the one area of marble counter that isn’t covered in cookies and drop to my knees.

“Right now?” she asks, pressing her hands to the counter’s edge between her legs.

“Did you have another time in mind?” I ask.

“I guess not. I just—” she takes a shallow breath. “It makes me nervous.”

“That’s okay. You can trust me, and I’ll take it slow.”

I wait for another long moment to pass, and she finally moves her hands, bracing them outside her legs. “Okay.”

Still on my knees between her legs, I grip them, running my fingers up her calves to her knees. I dip my head and place a soft kiss on the inside of her right thigh, easing her into the feeling of having me down there. When I turn my head to do the same on the other leg, her muscles tense under my fingers. Looking up, I see she’s digging her teeth into her bottom lip as her chest rises and falls on tight breaths.

It’s gonna take a lot more than a few soft kisses between her knees to make her comfortable.

When I stand up, her mouth turns down. “Wait? Why did you stop? Did I—”

The insecurity dripping off her words breaks my heart.

“I’m not stopping, love. Don’t worry.” I say, scooping her off the counter and carrying her into the living room. I lean her back onto the pillowy couch until I can cage her in with an arm on either side of her head. “Why don’t we start with something else?” I ask, dipping down to kiss her.

The tension in her body shifts the moment our lips touch. Instead of fear, her body buzzes with anticipation, her fingers grasping onto my shoulders as her lips meet mine. We’ve been here before, and she knows what to expect—what to do.And she does it so well.

I’ve been dying to kiss her again—properly—for weeks. Taking my time, I bask in slow, searching presses of our lips and seeking tongues.

“You are gorgeous when you kiss me,” I tell her between kisses.

“Your eyes are closed, Cameron,” she giggles, pressing another kiss to my lips. “You can’t know that.”

With a hand at her waist, I roll us so we’re both lying on our sides, facing each other. “I assure you, Icanknow that.”

Her eyes sparkle with anticipation, a sly smile on her lips, as I tuck my fingers into the waistband of her shorts and draw them down her legs.

Taking my time, I let my hand drift up her leg, paying extra attention to the scars there. When my fingers graze the edge of the longest one, she flinches. My eyes snap to hers as I run my hand over her thigh again, my palm covering an expanse of scars.

She flinches again. “You don’t have to touch them.”

That fucking asshole.I don’t have to ask to know what’s making her insecure. “Iwantto touch them.”

“But my scars aren’t part of,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, “going down on me.”

My lips pull into a smirk as I tap the tip of her nose.

As expected, she giggles, loosening up a little again.

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