Page 79 of Take Me Home

“It’s a compliment.”

He shook his head, trying for stern, but he was breathless, eyelids heavy, and very hard against her hand.

Then, an unexpected touch at the seam of her jeans pressed right at the part of her that had begun to ache, and she squeezed her thighs around his hips, heels at the backs of his knees begging him closer. His mouth dropped to her collarbone. Before she could get used to the delicious wet warmth there, he moved lower, lips dragging over her, tongue darting out to lick just above her bra. He tried the clasp at her back for two secondsbefore giving up, hooking his fingers into one cup, and tugging it down. His mouth covered and then sucked her nipple, a moan vibrating straight to her heart.

She didn’t recognize her own voice, but yes, that was a whimper, and it had come from her. She was a live wire from months of deprivation and loneliness. But this—he—was something else. She was losing control a lot faster than usual, writhing into him, nearly hyperventilating. She wanted him so badly she could cry.

Hazel shoved her hand inside his waistband, wrapped her fingers around him.

He groaned at the contact, rocked forward into her grip as she began to work him. “Fuck. Wait.” Ash tilted his face up to the open rafters of the barn and then back down, kissing her more gently this time. “If you keep that up,” he murmured against her lips, “this isn’t going to last as long as either of us wants.”

She smiled and knew he felt it because he grumbled, “Don’t be cute. I want this to be good for you.”

Every inch of him screamed restraint. His shoulder muscles, his abs, his jaw—they were all rubber bands about to snap. Couldn’t he see she felt the same, practically bursting through her own skin? She wanted to see him lose control, but not at the expense of his pride, even if her own had left the building.

She released her hold on him, ran her palms up his back to the smooth plane of each shoulder blade as he snaked a hand into her pants—when had he gotten them open?—and stroked the damp heat of her underwear, making her jump and then grind shamelessly into his touch.

After a few rolls of her hips, he stopped to work her jeans down over her butt. The wooden workbench was cold under the backs of her thighs. The shock of it wasn’t entirely unwelcome,though, one extreme swinging to its opposite, just like her warring desires to race ahead and to savor this.

He pulled her closer to the edge so she was perched there, one hand clinging to the back of his neck, the other planted behind her for leverage. His fingers were finally on her without a barrier, gently stroking her slick heat then circling right where she wanted him.

“Ash,” she panted.

“What do you want?”

She wanted everything—his fingers, his mouth, him pushing deep inside her. She wanted the sweet release that was building, but also for this to never end.

“Don’t go quiet on me now,” he teased. He stroked her entrance, thumb still circling, and she shuddered in anticipation.

“Ash,” she said again, his name a harsh intake of breath, broken and needy.

“God, you’re too much.” In any other context, she might have taken this as a complaint, but his voice was so raw and wanting.

He yanked her underwear down her thighs, tilting her back so her shoulders and head met the pegboard for tools on the wall. On the other side of the table, something clattered down and fell to the floor with a metallicclunk. She covered her head, laughing, but then his face was between her thighs, and he was licking into her, and she forgot everything else except the hot velvet press of his tongue.

When she clutched his hair, he pushed a finger into her, withdrew it, and immediately added another, the stretch and fullness almost pushing her over the edge. She felt unmoored, swept up in a huge swell about to break.

“Condom?” she managed to say.

He shook his head then pulled back. “I don’t—”

“What?”

“Hazel, I didn’t bring condoms to a family festival.” He brought his mouth back to her like this wasn’t the worst possible news he could give her right now.

“Whose barn is this? There was alcohol. Maybe there are condoms.”

The rumble of his laugh against her core made her eyes flutter closed. “Do you want me to stop and look?”

Yes. No. God, she didn’t know anything right now, except that she wanted more of him, all of him. His mouth was already back to work.

“I’m close.” It came out like a complaint.

“Good.”

If she was going to fall apart, she wanted him right there with her. “Reciprocity,” she said, unable to articulate anything more.

At first, he kept his steady pace against and inside of her, but when she tugged helplessly at his hair, he relented, rising back up. “Okay, okay.” He tongued at her free breast again and caressed and massaged the other. Every part of her body clenched with the insane pleasure of it, and she wasted no time getting back into his boxer briefs.

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