Page 106 of Against All Odds

Once that’s cleaned up, I go to the mountain of dishes in the sink. As I start to wash, I do my absolute best not to notice where he is, but he’s making it incredibly hard by occasionally grazing my arm or bumping into me lightly.

As I’m elbow deep in the soapy water, he comes up behind me, his chest against my back, and reaches his arm in front of me. I gasp softly when I feel his cheek against my neck.

“Sorry, I need the paper towels.” His gravelly voice sends a shiver down my spine.

My heart is pounding as I force myself to breathe. “It’s fine.”

Although it’s not. I’m burning up and it isn’t from the hot water.

I want him.

I want his arms around me. I want to feel his scruff against my neck and everywhere else.

“Is it?” he asks, still standing behind me, both arms now caging me in.

The air in the room is charged—one spark and we could explode, which might happen anyway.

The question feels loaded. As though he’s not talking about the paper towels or the mess, but about this moment. I turn myhead, looking at him from over my shoulder. The heat in his eyes confirms that we are not talking about anything else except each other.

“Everett . . .”

His eyes close, and he runs his nose along my neck. “Hmm.”

“I want ...” I stop. Not able to say the words. To kiss me. To take me. To claim me because dear God, I’ve never been anyone else’s the way I am his.

That staying away from him is too much. It’s impossible and I’m so tired of fighting.

His lip is against my ear, and the heat of his breath causes me to shiver. “I know what you want. Tell me, Violet, and I’ll give it to you.”

I can’t say it. I gasp, my fingers gripping the edge of the sink. “Please,” I beg.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

I shut the water off and turn to face him, my desire winning out over my common sense. “Yes.”

twenty-five

Everett

Yes.

I don’t hesitate. I move my lips to hers, pressing in the most tender kiss I can manage. It’s been weeks without her. Weeks after having her, kissing her, making love to her that I’ve gone without.

I’m a starved man, and right now I’m being fed.

Violet’s hands move to my face, and she deepens the kiss. My tongue slides against hers, the kiss becoming more and more heated.

She tastes like sugar, and her vanilla-and-cinnamon scent fills my senses. I’ve waited for her to come to me, to let me convince her that we can have a future, but she wasn’t ready.

Now that I have her in my arms again, I’m going to do everything I can to keep her.

“Everett,” she says and breaks the kiss, turning her head. “God, I’m sorry.”

I clear my throat. “Sorry for what?”

“I ... I shouldn’t kiss you. I shouldn’t do this to you.”

“I promise, kissing you is not a hardship.” Although it does make some things very, very hard.

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