Page 38 of Reclaimed

I drag her hand up between us and flatten her palm on my chest. The heat of her sears through the thin layer of my cotton tee. I fight to keep my eyes open. To hide how fucking affected I am by this.

Blindly, since her eyes remain locked on mine and I’m not going to be the first to break that connection, I find her other hand hanging limp at her side. I drag her arm upward until I settle her other palm over my leather jacket against my hip.

“Keep those there,” I order in a raspy growl.

God, if she were to move them, to roam places on my body that haven’t been touched, I’m afraid of what might happen. I’m certain I’d embarrass myself. There’s a high probability she’d call this entire thing off.

For a minute, I just gaze down at her. And she looks up at me. Her eyes open and trusting. Patiently waiting for me to lead us down an untraveled road we more than likely can’t come back from.

Her trust is heady and foreign. The last thing I want to do is fuck this up.

“Hold still,” I murmur, my lips barely parting to release those two words. I stare at her like she’s a puzzle I’m trying to solve but I’m a few pieces short.

I feather the fingers of my right hand over the side of her neck. Her pulse jumps, dancing rapidly against the digits. My thumb strokes around the other side as I marvel in how smooth her skin is.

Her breath catches, the hitch driving through my chest and straight to my cock. I haven’t kissed her yet and I’m already fucking hard, throbbing, pressing against the zipper of my jeans like it’s trying to break through the restrictive fabric.

Time slows to a crawl as I lower my lips to hers.

The first brush is tentative, testing the invisible boundary between us. Isla gasps a few seconds in, as if she was holding her breath and forgot she needed air. My hand slides from her neck into the back of her hair, slipping into the strands beneath her bun and tilting her head back to deepen it.

My tongue slips into her mouth. A groan vibrates through my chest and I know she can feel it beneath her hand. She curls her fingers tight into my cotton tee as if she needs to be closer and can’t get close enough.

She tastes like mint and raspberry from her sparkling drink, the combination reminding me of a crisp summer cocktail on a summer day. The loose strands of her hair tickle my cheek, and I reach back to untie her crazy bun. The curls tumble down her shoulders and back. While I devour her, I bury my hands in the soft mess.

I’ve kissed other girls and fooled around a handful of times, but for some reason this feels different. It feels like I’m kissing the person I want to kiss for the rest of my life.

She releases my leather jacket to wrap her hand around my lower back. Her touch ignites a fire, and when she yanks us flush, a shudder races down my spine.

Fuck.

I don’t think I’ve been this hard in my entire fucking life and the unmistakable bulge behind my zipper is now pressed into her soft belly.

It’d take an act of god for her to miss it.

The kiss concludes slowly, a testament that neither one of us wants it to end.

Isla regains her voice first.

“What was that?”

I clear my throat and swallow. “Practice kissing.”

Her eyes widen adorably. “If that’s practice kissing, I can’t wait to see what real kissing is.” She swipes her index and middle fingers across her swollen lips.

“Me either.” A shocked chuckle escapes. Hearing it, Isla laughs too.

God help me.

11

Isla

“You’d thinkI’d be calmer. It’s not like your family are a bunch of strangers.” The button on my open flannel shirt is crookedly sewn on. I’ll have to fix it when we get back home. I force my attention away from the fabric and wipe my damp palms on my thighs, feeling the denim lightly chafe my skin.

“It’ll be fine. The second you walk in the door the secret will be out.” Aiden scratches the side of his nose with his thumb. “Earlier, actually. They’re probably going to be watching out the front window for us to pull up.”

“I should have told Juniper before today.”

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