Page 100 of Love Among Vines

“Again?” His eyebrows were raised.

His hands slid up and down her back, eventually clamping on her ass. One slipped around her front to tease her, stroking and fondling. A moan escaped, and she bit her lip. She lowered herself to find him hard between her legs.

“Again.” She ground against him, releasing a gasp from between those infuriating lips. For one wildly irresponsible moment, she debated throwing caution to the wind and lowering down, taking him in until he filled every emptiness in her. But that was how people got pregnant.

“You don’t happen to have another…?” She rolled her hips against him again.

He moved her over and threw the covers off, sprinting across the roof. He came back with protection and moved to push her onto her back.

She shook her head. “My turn.”

He obediently sank back into the mountain of pillows. She climbed aboard and took him inside her.

They both gasped. They were like two puzzle pieces who had met at long last even though they had been joined barely twenty minutes before. He filled her from within, sending a shower of sparks from her head to her toes.

His skin was damp beneath hers. They locked eyes as she gyrated on top. He was completely at her mercy, powerless beneath her strong and capable body. He bit his bottom lip, and she was nearly undone.

Maybe she should switch to reverse cowgirl. Less chance of feelings that way. But she wanted to see him, study his reactions, watch as she shifted her pressure or gripped him tighter.

He yanked her down on top of him and raised his hips. There was a hunger in his kiss. His fingertips pressed into her hard enough to leave bruises.

But she didn’t care. She wanted more—neededmore.

He moved with her in perfect sync. She pulled back, and their eyes locked.

How was she ever going to come back from this? Her heart stuttered in her chest. She averted her eyes and focused on the irresistible sensation building inside her. They crashed together again and again, harder and faster than the last time. Friction whipped her into a frenzy. Her hands clawed the blankets beneath them.

Finally, they shuddered over the peak together, liquid heat washing over her and sending her body into a quivering mess. She collapsed onto him, a sheen of sweat between them as she pressed her ear to his chest.

His heart thumped beneath her, strong and fast. He wrapped his arms around her, hands tangling in her hair. Shuddering breaths escaped as their heart rates fell.

Eventually, she rolled off him.

He faced her. “You’re extraordinary.”

Her face grew hot. What was it about Rett that turned her into a blushing schoolgirl? Was it those devastating good looks or the way those fierce green eyes penetrated her right to her core? Maybe it was his open appreciation of her body now thathe had finally lifted the temporary sex ban. The way he took in each part of her like she was crafted by a master sculptor.

Or maybe it had just been awhile since he’d gotten laid and he was grateful for whatever scraps she threw to him.

Oh, right. She should probably say something back. “Thanks. You too. I should probably go pee. UTIs and all that.”

Was it her imagination, or did he look a little bit sad when she yanked on her sweater and underwear and traipsed down the stairs?

There was no time to worry about that. She padded barefoot over the floorboards and ducked into the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and stared into the mirror. Her face was flushed, but her posture was relaxed. She kind of looked like she had just left a spa day.

The second bang hadn’t relieved the encroaching thoughts. Now she was more confused than ever.

The chemistry between them was electric. Undeniable. She had felt it the second she walked into the winery at the bachelorette party. He noticed things, cataloguing likes and preferences and always brought a thoughtful gesture. He listened, cared, was willing to provide solutions when asked. He would be the perfect husband to someone someday.

But she didn’t have time to wait around for him to decide he was open to the possibility of love. There was nothing she could do or say to make him fall in love with her. And besides, what if they did end up together? He would always prioritize work. He had basically said it himself. It would never work between them, and she needed to accept that. He needed a responsible, financially savvy partner, not a free-spirited artist with no family who had wasted two years of her life mourning Nate the concussed fucking papaya.

Her only choice was to get through this week with as much of her dignity left as possible. She would repay her debt to him,paint the mural, and go back to the city. That was the only solution. There was no future here. Was there?

She did her business, then headed back up to the rooftop.

The projector was on, and a movie was paused.

“Is this?—”

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