Page 19 of Harvest of Love
“It doesn’t have to be. My house is right there.” I point to the porch. A lightbulb goes on in his head.
Manny opens the truck door and walks to the house while I’m still straddling him.
I love that he’s as eager about this as I am.
“But the ice cream?” I protest as I manage to get the keys from my purse.
“It’s cold outside. It’ll be fine in the truck.”
Miraculously, I get the key in the lock and open the door.
The moment we’re inside, the air changes between us. The need to undress—to feel skin against skin—is overwhelming.
Manny closes the door and turns, pressing me against it.
Holy hell, that’s hot.
He leans his head back so he can see me. “Are you sure you want this, baby?”
I don’t think he realizes how sexy it is that he always asks for my consent.
“Yes. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
His lips are on mine before I can finish the sentence.
This kiss is hungry, greedy—almost feral.
And I can’t get enough of it. Of him.
My hands travel to his back, tugging his shirt until I can slip beneath it and touch bare skin. His muscles flex under my palms, and I relish the thought ofaffecting him.
I drag my nails gently down his skin. He hisses against my mouth and nips at my lower lip.
“Where’s your bedroom?” His voice is husky, doing delicious things to my libido.
“End of the hall, left door,” I whisper hurriedly, pressing a trail of kisses from his neck to his ear. I lick his earlobe, and Manny’s step falters.
“Fucking hell,” he murmurs, shifting me easily in his arms.
Once in my bedroom, he places me on the bed with a mix of care and urgency.
He remains standing, eyes scanning me from head to toe. When his gaze returns to mine, hunger flashes dark and hot. It’s as if he remembers where we are and snaps into action.
His shoes and socks are off in a second, then his shirt—he doesn’t even unbutton it, just pulls it up and over his head. He’s left in a white undershirt and jeans, hair deliciously disheveled from my hands.
Slowly, he straddles me and leans down until I can feel his breath against my lips.
“May I undress you?” he asks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
I nod.
“Words, baby. I need your words.”
I squirm beneath him, too impatient for his gentlemanly pace. “Yes, Manny. You may undress me, but please do it fast.”
He chuckles at my desperation, but I don’t care. I can’t wait to have this man inside me.
Placing a kiss on my cheek, he trails infuriatingly slow toward my lips. I huff in frustration, and Manny lifts his body just enough to look at me.
