Page 21 of The Marrying Kind
Our kiss started off slow and sweet—until she made an eager noise, and then all bets were off. I filled my hands with her gorgeous tits while her tongue tangled with mine in hot, confident strokes. She tasted like hot chocolate and sugar, and I couldn’t get enough.
She was responsive in my arms, and while I caressed every bit of exposed skin I could, Ella rocked against me.
Shit.All my resolve was being tested tonight.
Her hands roamed over the muscles in my chest, my shoulders, and she made an incoherent sound that I tried hard not to fall in love with.
With her mouth fastened to mine, I realized my hands were suddenly very full of her ass, which I used to pull her even closer. Ella was still rocking those hips as she ground herself against me.
She made a pleasure-filled noise that sent desire zinging through me. My body was all kinds of primed and ready. I wanted to push her bikini bottoms aside and sink into her. I’d never wanted something more.
But I also didn’t want to screw this up. Ella was cool. A good person. She was interesting, and very pretty. And a little shy.
I barely knew her, but something told me if we went for it, it would be a one-time thing. Something to cross off her bucket list—have a one-night stand. I didn’t want to be something,someone, she crossed off her list and never looked back on.
I tried to shut that voice up. It almost worked.
Because kissing had never been like this. I felt like I’d known this girl for years, rather than days. We were perfectly in sync—her warm hands caressing my skin, mine still full of her gorgeous ass.
And our mouths stayed very busy. Tongues lapping and retreating, her fingertips on my jaw, like she was holding me right where she wanted me. We kissed for a long time. So long that my body ached all over, begging for release.
Eventually, common sense won out. I rested my forehead against hers and drew in a long, slow breath.Slow down, jackass.
Ella opened her eyes and blinked at me.
When I finally found my voice, it came out as a hoarse whisper. “Come on. We’d better get you home before you catch a cold out here.”
9
MIXED BAG
Ella
Ihad been sure that I’d wear Austen down on hisno one-night-standrule when I pulled my top off. Honestly, it was wholly unlike me to try a stunt like that. But, heck, this was what the year was all about. Taking big chances. Living life to its fullest.
I liked this version of me. She was daring and fun. And a little reckless.
If he’d have rejected me, I’d want to drown myself in the hot spring—thankfully, he hadn’t.
Austen had been so eager, so hot and hard all over. And he was by far the best kisser I’deverkissed. The subtle rock of his hips, the way his hands moved over my skin ... I had chills just thinking about how sexy it had all been. And the backdrop of it being in the steamy hot springs—our own personal hot tub? It was every erotic fantasy I didn’t know I was capable of.
But then he’d stopped it.
Now I wouldn’t say things were weird between us, because he was as sweet as ever to me, even if he treated me like a live electrical wire.
It was fine, though. I needed to get out and get on with my adventure, so the next morning when he left for work, I booked a ski lesson. Then the next day, with a bruised hip from a few falls on the slopes—it turned out balance wasnotone of my talents—I hired a private ice-fishing charter to take me out. As fun as it was to freeze my butt off in an ice shanty all day, I had no idea what to do with the fish I’d caught.
Of course, Austen knew just how to fry them up for dinner that night. He showed me how to gut and clean them, coat them in seasonings, and fry them up in a pan. It was interesting, but I was sure I’d never want to try it again myself.
He’d been a great host, even if he’d become somewhat more guarded after our hot make-out session.
The following day, I took a break from freezing winter adventures to help Natalie box the baked goods that she’d be dropping off at the hospital later.
“How are the adventures going?” she asked as she opened yet another bright pink pastry box.
“I might need to put some method to this madness,” I said thoughtfully as I zeroed in on the dull ache in my thigh. “So far, I was just trying whatever I passed next on the street.” Then I recalled for her my skiing and fishing snafus.
“I’m jealous you got to eat Austen’s fried fish. He’s a great cook.”
