Page 48 of Swept Up In You

“That is alsoNOTwhat I was meant to say.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

Taylor tried to smother her grin, tilting her head as she watched Sam at war with herself. “No?”

Sam huffed, making Taylor smile even wider.

Taylor inched forward. “May I come in?”

Sam moved aside, and Taylor stepped down into the cabin, back into Sam’s space.

“Whatdidyou imagine?”

Because Taylor was imagining all sorts of things. And she had agoodimagination.

Sam’s face blushed under the dim lights as she looked away.

Taylor took a step closer. She had in mind the kind of kiss Sam really wanted. Her own nerves started to fade away, replaced by a heat that was only just firing up.

Sam looked back then, her gaze dropping to Taylor’s lips.

She had her answer.

Taylor closed the gap, her hand sliding to the back of Sam’s neck, their lips colliding. Hands fisted at her shirt. The kiss—anything but innocent like their first—made Taylor almost want to growl.

Sam deepened it first as Taylor pushed them back, Sam hitting the kitchen bench with a thud and the sweetest of giggles. Taylor could listen to that sound for days. She smiled into the kiss, threading her hand into Sam’s hair.

Sam’s lips parted as Taylor slipped in her tongue, Sam responding with a groan as she scraped at Taylor’s back. This wasn’t at all how Taylor envisioned her night going. And she wasnotcomplaining. Sam was turning into so much more than she’d first thought.

They finally took a breath, staring at each other, breathing heavy.

“So, that happened.” Taylor grinned, Sam’s hands still clutching at her hips. “Do we need to talk about this?” Taylor gestured between them.

Sam sighed and let her hands drop. “We probably should.”

She started toying with a button on Taylor’s shirt instead, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sorry for freaking out on you earlier. I think… I scared myself.” She frowned, her nose scrunching, looking absolutely adorable.

“No, that’s not right.” A pause. “I didn’t think I’d know how to kiss a girl. Which is so embarrassing,” she mumbled.

Taylor nudged Sam’s face up to look at her. “Hey,” she said softly. “I know this is super new for you. So we can go as fast or slow as you like, but I’m thinking PG might be what you need right now.”

Sam nodded.

Taylor made sure Sam was still looking into her eyes. “Also, for the record? That was amazing.”

It was Sam’s turn to break into a wide grin. “You’re telling me. That was SO much better than kissing guys. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She smacked Taylor playfully on the arm.

“Ow, hey! Preaching to the choir here. I literally kissed one boy in high school and knew that wasn’t for me.”

“Lucky you.” Sam smirked.

“Lucky me indeed, especially right now.”

Sam glanced outside. “As much as I really”—she looked back at Taylor’s mouth—“reallywant a repeat of just now, we should probably get everything packed away and close up the door before this whole cabin is filled with bugs.”

Taylor screwed up her nose and started moving back up on deck. “Ew, yes please. I hate bugs.”

“What, the travelling van girl and supreme tradie lady hates bugs?” Sam joked, flicking on the outside lights as they made their way to the front of the boat.

“Exactly! They’re everywhere I am. In the van, up a mast, they always find me.” Taylor pretended to shudder as a moth flew at her face out of nowhere. She yelped, flapping her arms and overbalancing. She grabbed onto a rail just in time as Sam grabbed onto her other arm to steady her, the boat lurching with the movement.

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