Page 41 of Mess With Me
He smirked. “Then how would you ogle my muscles?”
Her cheeks dotted with red. Ha. Busted. She turned away, looking at the shoreline, and then turned back to him. “Let’s speed this up, muscle man.”
He did, loving the nickname. He got them safely to shore, dumping his fishing rod, paddles, and their life vests on the sand before clearing the water from the canoe. Then he stored the canoe in the designated area a short distance away.
When he returned, Ally was doing a little bouncing dance to keep warm.
He took in her goose bumps, her wet hair pressed flatly to her head, her pale lips, her soaked clothes, clingy and see-through, and did the only logical thing—pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Her lips were soft and yielding, exactly as he’d hoped. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing against him, igniting carnal need. Scorching hot, tongues tangling, they devoured each other. He gripped her hair, his other hand firmly on her ass, pressing her against him. She moaned softly, threatening to break his control.
He pulled away, both of them breathless.
She stared at him, her fingers touching her lips.
He grabbed her hand. “Come on.”
“Don’t you need your stuff?”
He stopped, and she gave him a knowing smile. “Blood left your brain, didn’t it?” she asked.
He kissed her again, hard and fast. “You’ve got a smart mouth.”
They stared at each other for a long pulse-pounding moment. He wanted that mouth and a lot more of her. Right here, right now. Kissing Ally had only confirmed what he’d known deep down—they fit. On every level.
She let out a shaky breath and looked everywhere but at him. “Okay, um, so let’s go to my place first so I can shower and change; then we’ll go to yours so you can too.”
He stared at that lush mouth he desperately wanted another taste of. If they went to her place and she was naked in the shower—no. He had to do this right. Not in a hot rush before a party. All things considered, he’d have better control if they stayed here, knowing their friends were arriving soon. “We’ll stay here,” he said firmly. “You can wear my hoodie.”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m not showing up to a party looking like a drowned rat. Let’s rock-paper-scissors for it.”
He bit back a smile, liking that she didn’t hesitate to push back. “What is this, first grade?” He lifted a thumb. “Thumb wrestle. And you’re not at all ratlike. You look very natural.”
She harrumphed. “Natural is not what I’m going for.” She joined hands with him and lifted her thumb. “One, two, three, go.”
He won in a quick battle, keeping her hand tucked in his. “Looks like you’re wearing my hoodie.”
“Only because your thumbs are unusually large.”
He lifted his thumb and stared at it. “They are?”
She slammed his thumb down. “Ha-ha! I won. Back to my place.”
“You cheated. That didn’t count.”
She grinned cheekily and headed for his Jeep, a little swagger in her step.
“Fine, you win.” He grabbed his fishing stuff and caught up with her, telling himself to cool it. He’d keep his distance at her place, make it quick at his place. That way he’d eliminate the window of temptation. After the party was soon enough. Then he could take his time, make it good for her. For now, he’d keep it light.
She sniffed him. “You smell like the lake.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
She crinkled her nose. “It’s kind of fishy.”
“How can it be fishy? All your splashing scared the fish away.”
“Trust me, we’re like walking aquariums.”
“Huh.”
