Page 68 of Turning Tides
He mouthed the shell of my ear, sending a tidal wave of goosebumps down my spine. “Keep me safe.”
We did not have time for any of the dirty, delectable things I wanted to do to him. But we did have time for me to twist my body to loop my arms around his neck. Time for me to slant our mouths together and lick my way inside him. To pull him down to me, against me, so I could relish the solid weight of him pinning me against the counter. I loved the heft of Shane’s body. The bulk. The way he was bigger than me in every way, but bent to my every whim. Even this one, to have him press against me, making me feel trapped, even if it was a snare of my own invention.
We kissed until my face ached from it. Until my dick was impossibly hard and my heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to get out and jump into Shane’s chest to curl up with his. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve a man who made me feel that way, but I wanted to keep on deserving him. Living without him wasn’t an option.
Shane rested his forehead against mine and took a few deep, even, breaths. “My dick is so fucking hard right now I can barely see straight.”
“Well, you better get it under control. Cyrus will be here soon.”
Shane rocked forward, pressing his thigh against the bulge in my pants. It dragged a shameless groan out of me, earning a laugh from Shane. Sadistic bastard.
“You’re one to talk. And you started it.” He pulled away and pressed the heel of his hand against the base of his dick to try and get his cock to behave. All I ever had to do to lose an erection was to think about that time my mom almost caught me jerking off. That was a never-fail boner killer.
“Did you need any help getting everything finished?” I wanted to be useful, but I’d had a tattoo that morning and then I’d wanted towork on my painting. I should’ve stuck around and helped Shane with dinner, but he’d claimed to have everything handled. I still couldn’t resist asking, though.
“I told you, everything is covered. If you wanted to help, you’d tell me what you’ve been working on.”
I did my best to scowl at Shane, but it was impossible when he looked at me with that sappy expression of his. The one that made my insides go all warm and gooey. The one that made me want to crawl up into his arms and stay there forever. Shane Taggart saw me in a way that no one else had seen me before. Maybe they hadn’t been looking, or maybe it was just who he was.
Part of me wanted to cancel dinner with Cyrus and Marshall and take Shane to bed for the rest of the day, but he had been looking forward to this and I didn’t want to take it from him.
“One more kiss and then I need to shower.” I looped my arms around Shane’s neck again, but I didn’t stop at one kiss. One would never be enough.
Chapter 33
Shane
It should have beenawkward when Cyrus and Marshall showed up. But they walked in together, Marshall trailing slightly behind Cyrus, carrying a pie. I took it for the peace offering it was. It was by some unspoken agreement that none of us mentioned the angst of the previous weeks. It was water under the proverbial bridge now. The brothers were working on getting past their differences.
Archer had filled me in more on how much Cyrus had done for him growing up. I appreciated how hard it could be to let go of old habits. Marshall and Archer were in the living room while Archer explained this new painting technique he wanted to try. Each and every day, he opened up more. It was like watching a sunrise, the way he slowly came into himself, rediscovering old loves. He was happiest when he was covered in paint. Or other substances I couldn’t think of with his brother standing next to me, peering over my shoulder.
Cyrus couldn’t help himself. He truly thought food was better if he had something to do with the preparation of it. Glancing at him over my shoulder, I raised an eyebrow.
“Did you want to take over?”
Cyrus exhaled and almost shoved me out of the way. “Yes, I do.”
I didn’t mind. I was used to Cyrus’s bossy kitchen habits.
“Do you want a beer?” I asked as I grabbed one from the fridge for myself.
“What kind is it?” Cyrus asked, knowing that I usually had some variety of craft beer in my fridge. I was always on the lookout for new things for The Anchor. There was a local micro brewery that I often worked with.
“It’s a pale ale.” Grabbing a bottle opener, I cracked the caps off and handed one to him.
Cyrus took a sip of the beer and nodded his approval. “This is nice.”
“It’s one of my recent favorites.”
He cut his gaze over to me, then looked at Marshall and Archer, who were still deep in conversation in the living room.
“I don’t hate that you’re together.” Cyrus delivered the peace offering with a strained smile. I’d already moved on from Cyrus’s temper tantrum, but he clearly had things to say.
“I don’t hate that we’re together either.” I clinked our bottles together and took a sip. “I have two brothers. I understand your urge to protect Archer.”
“Doesn’t make me less of an asshole, though.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I grinned at him. “But don’t worry, I’ll forgive you. I hired you knowing you were an asshole and I was your friend for years knowing you’re an asshole. I happen to think you’re good people, Cyrus. And one hiccup in the history of our friendship isn’t enough to change my opinion of you.”
