Page 83 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
“Did you take all of these?” I ask, completely in awe. I think I could spend all day staring at them.
“Yes,” he says shyly and walks closer until he’s right behind me, his arms snaking around me and his fingers locking right over my belly. I sigh, all too happy to lean against him and let him hug me tight.
“They’re beautiful,” I whisper. The air is thick with emotion, all my senses tuned into him when I see another image that hits me like a sudden burst of cold rain. “Are those your parents?”
“Yes,” he admits after a moment of hesitation.
For a second, I close my eyes, waiting for the familiar pain to wash over me. The realization of what I’ve lost, the Band-Aid to be pulled off once again, only this time … it doesn’t come. As if I’ve pulled it off twenty times already, and the glue barely sticks to my skin anymore.
“They’d love to meet you,” Henry whispers, and I tilt my head. Unexpectedly, his words don’t cause a panic. No, instead, I find my insides filling with warmth, and I experience the sudden urge to meet the people who have raised this perfect person behind me.
“I’d love to meet them,” I whisper back, and he freezes for a moment in surprise. “Someday.”
“Someday,” he repeats and hugs me tighter. “How about a movie?”
“You know what?” I turn my head and glance at him over my shoulder. “A movie sounds perfect.”
Henry’s arm is warm around my shoulders, and the movie is … okay, I guess. Even Jensen already left the room, too bored with it. We settled on an action-filled, uncomplicated movie, but I stopped paying attention a while ago.
All I can focus on is the way his fingers are tracing slow circles on my hip. Each exhale brushes the top of my head, and I’m hyperaware of the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, the tow of us breathing in rhythm without even trying.
He’s so close. So familiar. And I want him so badly I could scream.
Thank God he apparently shares the same sentiment—he keeps glancing at me, his gaze staying on me longer and longer.
“You know, you’re pretty distracting,” he finally murmurs against my hair, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“More distracting than explosions and semi-good acting?” I ask, turning to look at him with what I hope is a charming smirk and not aplease take me nowexpression.
Instead of an answer, thumb and index finger find my chin, and he turns my face, pressing his lips against mine in a soft, searching kiss. He’s testing the waters, but I’ve already cannonballed in.
I kiss him deeper, turning my body until I’m in his lap. His hands immediately find my ass and give it a tight squeeze that makes me grin into our kiss.
My fingers slide up his chest, chasing the sound he makes—a low growl that vibrates against my palm as he pulls my core flush against him. A sound somewhere between a gasp and a giggle escape my mouth.
“Way more,” he whispers and kisses me again, his tongue demanding entrance to my mouth and kissing the sanity right out of me.
I can’t help but shiver, burying my hands in his hair as a tiny moan falls from my lips right onto his.
God, I want him. Badly.
“You’re so sensitive,” he mumbles with a grin, dragging his mouth down my jaw and kisses a path toward my neck.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I whisper, already breathless.
“It’s aperfectthing,” he objects, sliding his hands under my shirt. “I love how you respond to me. It drives me fucking insane.”
I gasp, tilting my head back, giving him more space, and he doesn’t waste a second. His lips find that spot right below my ear that makes my whole body twitch, and I moan when his hands slide higher, warm and possessive and like they belong there.
“Jesus, Henry,” I whisper, writhing in his lap, rubbing against his hard cock beneath his sweatpants. It makes my brain short-circuit. That delicious pressure. His heat right between my legs.
His breath hitches, and then he’s pulling back only enough to watch me—eyes dark, pupils blown wide, his lips deliciously red from our kiss.
“You’re driving me crazy, sweetheart,” he says, voice low and rough. “You always do.”
I can’t help it—I smile, a little smug and aching and completely gone for him.
“Then do something about it,” I dare him breathily, biting my lip. “Please?”
