Page 194 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“Jade I—”
I shush him with a finger to his lips.
“As the midnight moon was drifting through,” I whisper, singing the song that got us here.
Hart’s eyes light up, and he smiles, almost nervously, and begins swaying his body against mine while softly singing the following line.
“The lazy sway of the trees...”
My mouth finds his ear. “I saw the look in your eyes lookin’ into mine. Seeing what you wanted to see.”
Hart picks up the following verse as he brushes his fingers in circles on my hip.
“Hart?” My pulse quickens in time with the rubbing of Hart’s fingers.
“Yes?”
I whimper in his ear. “I want a man with a slow hand.” I nibble his earlobe, rough and hard.
Hart pulls back, and the surprised look on his face is adorable.
I nod, permitting him, silently telling him I want this as badly as he does.
Here and now.
Desire fills his eyes as he meets me again for another kiss. This time, rough and hard. But his hands are anything but. One slides slowly down my backside and grips my ass cheek before rubbing in slow, teasing motions.
He certainly remembers the lyrics.
“More,” I cry, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
Hart’s mouth makes its way down my throat and along my collarbone.
“Mmm,” I moan and feel his smile as he continues to nibble my skin softly.
How could I have forgotten how soft his lips were?
His other hand slides down the front of my jeans, brushing the zipper.
I bite my lip, anticipation coiling inside me.
He begins rubbing my jeans, exactly where I crave it, where every nerve is lit. His other hand massages between my ass cheeks, and his fingers tease my entrance as his thumb continues its sweet torment at my front.
Can he feel the inferno between my legs through the clothing?
My body trembles with need. I feel myself on the brink, my body straining towards release, lost in the methodic motion of Hart’s hands, rubbing me in front and behind. Then both hands move behind, and his erection rubs my front. The dual sensation is overwhelming.
“Hart...” My voice is barely a whisper against the backdrop of the theatre.
His lips curl into a smirk, his eyes never leave mine as he continues his sweet torture.
A wave of pleasure threatens to drown me. I grind harder, my body seeking more of his touch.
And his mouth. Fuck. He’s kissing me like I’m his lifeline, his tongue diving and exploring my mouth, rough, needy, and hungry.
So damn hungry.
My gasps and moans grow louder, but it doesn’t deter Hart. It doesn’t stop him or even slow him down. He keeps to the slow, albeit constant motion, and I feel myself on the edge, ready to fall over.
