Page 69 of Beyond the Cottage

“Neck.” His gravelly voice lit her non-existent nerves on fire. Reminding herself it was no big deal, she inched closer and put her hands on his shoulders.

His shirt was soft from over-washing. It contrasted the hard bone and muscle underneath, and she experimentally squeezed. The places where he used to be fragile, he’d become solid.

Curious and emboldened by the dark, she slid her palms up his neck. Dense, silky hair met her fingertips, and she rubbed a piece between her thumb and forefinger.

He needed a trim. In the cottage, he’d hated how long it grew. He’d loudly complain while Gretta worked the snarls out, and she’d promised to cut it for him when they escaped. Now it was much thicker and healthier. She sifted through the strands, extending them until they touched his collar.

His throat rolled as he swallowed, and Gretta dropped his hair.

She was stalling.

Why was she stalling? Best to get this over with.

Returning her palms to his shoulders, she took a deep breath. She plunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Several inches remained between their chests. The clock across the room ticked off the seconds. Soon, Gretta’s muscles strained from the uncomfortable position.

It was…awkward. Forced. She almost laughed in relief. Then his arms circled her waist, expertly nestling her in his lap as if he’d been doing it every day for fourteen years.

The flutter in Gretta’s stomach became a tornado. Half her brain screamed to crawl away, to rebuke him for over-stepping, while the other half whispered words likesafety,shelter,protection.

Her body had its own ideas. It curled into him, nestling harder, and the line between the past and present blurred.

Being in his lap again was so damn comfortable. And familiar. He was broader now, his arms were heavier, but their weight settled around her so naturally, her eyes stung from missing him. She hid them in his shirt.

Whatever issues remained between them, holding him again feltgood. Would it be so awful to ignore everything else, just for a few minutes?

As she sank deeper in his lap, he shakily exhaled, and it unraveled something in her. She pet the back of his head, drawing his different-yet-familiar scent into her lungs, blurring the lines more.

She didn’t question why her hands slid along his nape, down his neck, up to lift his face. She didn’t care why she nudged her nose against his and held it there. All that mattered was shefeltlike it.

Her head spun like she was drunk, making her reckless enough to wonder what it would be like to kiss him again. Just a quick peck to see. If they only had these minutes, she wanted everything they’d taken for granted as kids.

She tipped his face down, and her mouth landed on his perfectly. His body tensed, and for a horrible moment, she thought he’d push her away. Then he cupped the back of her head. They stayed like that, mouths pressed together, for seconds or hours, she wasn’t sure how long.

Time stopped existing.

Because it felt so incredibly good.

But it wasn’t the same as their childhood kisses. They had different bodies now. She had different needs. Her mouth gripped his top lip, gently pulling.

His tugged back. They both parted their lips…

And waited.

The waiting was unbearable, and tense, andelectric. Then his tongue lightly brushed hers, and Gretta’s very grown up body ignited.

She thrust her tongue against his, deeply, aggressively. He exhaled through his nose desperately, but she felt restraint in his movements, like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch her. It made her want to see the rational scientist lose control.

Giving up on lines altogether, she whispered, “Kiss me like a villain would.”

His breath paused. He slid his hand from her scalp to her jaw, firmly tilting her head back, thumb coaxing her lips open.

When their mouths reconnected, he dragged his tongue against hers in a long, plunging stroke. She shoved her hands in his hair and did it back.

Their kiss became frantic, clumsy with urgency. There was no confusing it with adolescent affection, the energy between them had nothing to do with comfort. They weren’t kids anymore, and she didn’twantcomfort.

Gretta swung a leg to straddle him. He hissed into her mouth as their groins met. He was rock hard, and it sparked kindlingthat had been building for longer than she wanted to admit. She ground on him, finding a rhythm.

Soon, it wasn’t enough.

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