Page 58 of A Sip of Sherry

“Chinese?”the man asked, having no idea what he just walked into.

“Yes,” Sherry said, taking the bag.“Thank you.”She handed him money, and when he reached into his pocket for change, she held up her hand.“I’m good.”

His eyes widened.“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks a lot, ma’am,” he said and hurried to his car as if she might change her mind.

She nodded toward me.“Continue.”

I shook my head, trying to remember where I had left off.A tremor ran through my hand and up my spine.My nerves were frayed, stretched too thin with all the lies.

“My lo mein is getting cold, and I have a rom-com waiting,” she said.

“I want to tell you everything, but it’s hard.With my family, my business, with myself.But then you came along all bright and stubborn, shining lights into the cracks, and those defenses stopped feeling like protection and more like a prison.”

“You’re the one keeping yourself locked up.”

“I know and because of that, I hurt you.I was a coward.Still am.I’m fucking shaking right now because I’m terrified you’re going to turn that hot little ass of yours around and slam that door in my face.”

The wind picked up, tugging at the ends of her blanket, but she didn’t move.With her hair mussed, her sharp brown eyes softening, it was enough to completely undo me.

I moved toward her and slowly lifted my hand to her cheek.She didn’t stop me or pull away, so I took that as permission.I cupped her face, running my thumb across her jaw, relishing in her warmth.“We don’t have to have sex, but please don’t—”

Her lips crashed into mine.The sound of her Chinese hitting the porch echoed around us, but my mind was too focused on the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin beneath mine.Her fingers tangled into the front of my shirt as if she needed something to hold on to.

The kiss was all heat and desperation.Days of tension snapped loose.It wasn’t soft or tentative.It was wild and raw and perfect.

Her lips left mine, her breath coming in jagged gasps.“No more talking.”

“But I haven’t told you—” Her mouth crashed into mine again, cutting me off.I had so much to tell her, but as her tongue plunged past my lips, words evaded me.

We stumbled inside, kicking the door shut behind us.Her blanket slipped to the floor, and my eyes focused on the delicate tank top and silk pants she wore.She pressed into me, her hands skimming under my shirt, sending a shiver down my spine.

My fingers found the curve of her waist, the small of her back, the soft skin I’d dreamed about every damn night since the last time I had her.

“What about your Chinese?”I managed.

“Leave it,” she said.

“You’re going to be hungry when I’m through with you.”

She grumbled against my lips, then hurried outside, grabbed the bag, and slammed the door.She deposited the to-go bag on the table, then was back in my arms.Her teeth slid over my bottom lip, biting gently and tugging.

I groaned, gripping her hips as she pressed against me.“Bed or couch?”I managed.

“Against the door if you don’t hurry up,” she said, and a smile broke at the corner of my mouth.

My hand slid to her ass, cupping her curves and lifting her.Her legs wrapped around me, and I carried her through the dim light of the living room.

Her teeth slid over my lips, her fingers tugging at my shirt.I turned, pinning her to the wall, her body rocked into mine.I leaned back, and she ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor.I kissed her again, this time less desperate and more passionate, flooding everything into it.

It wasn’t just about sex.Not anymore.This was about me and her and the aching need that had consumed me ever since that first night together back in October.She grabbed her shirt and tossed it with mine on the floor.

My eyes drifted to her two perfect tits.“No bra?”

“I take it off as soon as I walk in the door.”

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