Page 73 of Home Sweet Home

Just like that, he gave her the courage to lean in and press her lips against his. She started slowly, but then he groaned, maybe the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard, and pulled her on top of him. Then she was kissing West Hawthorne on a bed on a boat in the middle of a pond made of rocks. All of it would have been so absurd, but her mind was elsewhere, noticing how his kiss grew less tender each time. His hands kept moving, from her shoulders to her lower back, and she wanted them everywhere all at once.

Kissing West Hawthorne felt a little like the first sip of water after having been alone on an island for weeks, sunburnt, starving, and desperate for the touch of another person. It was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted, and also not enough, not even close. The only word in the English language she could conjure up wasmore.

As if he could read her mind, his fingers brushed the bare skin of her stomach before grasping the hem of the fabric there.

“All right?” he asked, his lips pressed against her collarbone.

“Yes.” She nodded into his chest, and he started the work of getting her shirt off. The fabric rose inch by inch, but it was taking too long, so she raised her arms and wrenched it off herself.

“Patience.” He shook his head into her neck, but when he pulled away and looked at her, his eyes narrowed and glazed over. He was singularly focused now, but as his hand reached behind her for her bra, she shook her head.

“Patience,” Evie said. “Your turn.”

He grinned and lifted his shirt over his head, and with each inch of exposed skin, the pool of want within her deepened. When his shirt was off, she pressed her hand to his chest, running her fingers through the sparse patch of hair there and charting a path to his shoulders, which were hard and smooth as marble beneath her fingers. It was like touching a living, breathing statue.

“Now can I see you?” He kissed the top of her shoulder. “Please?”

Evie nodded, and just as quickly as he’d gotten her bra off in the house, he took it off her. It fell onto the bed on top of her crumpled shirt, discarded and forgotten.

He stared at her for a long time, long enough that she should have been anxious about how it wasn’t quite dark yet and he could see her so clearly—her body was nothing like his—but all she could focus on was his face. His eyes were soft and so focused on her. His lips parted, erratic exhales escaping every few seconds.

“Jesus Christ, Evie,” he said in a rough whisper.

“I thought you were a thigh guy,” Evie said, trying to tease him, but when he reached a hand out and touched her, it was impossible to think about anything other than his hand on her body. He pulled her closer to him, leaving a trail of feverish kisses on her neck, her shoulders, her clavicle. As he touched her, he took his time, occasionally letting out a soft groan that had her trying to close the gap between them. After what felt like forever, he rolled on top of her, propping himself up with an arm. She knew it was so he didn’t crush her, but she didn’t like the space it created. And when he pulled away from her, it was like he had removed one of her limbs, one that she could still feel and desperately wanted back.

“Sure about this?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she said, stretching out her arms to bring him back to her.

She felt his smile against her neck as he kissed her over and over, each press of his lips against her bare skin a tiny lightning strike. He seemed to be charting a trail from her collarbone to the soft skin of her breast, to the curve of her stomach below her bellybutton. After a few seconds, she couldn’t see him at all, but she felt his lips, so light and soft, electrifying each patch of skin they touched. Her eyelids squeezed shut, and her fingers tangled in his hair, as smooth as silk.

Then her hands were empty, gripping nothing but air, and when she opened her eyes, his face was just a few inches away from hers.

“Tell me, Peach,” West said, tracing the edge of her collarbone with the tip of his index finger. “What do you want?”

The air was thick, and Evie couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know how to answer the question, because she wanted everything. “You.”

She tried to pull him to her, but he didn’t budge, only shook his head and bent to kiss her on the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Be more specific.”

His words sent a shiver through her, and he hardly gave her a second to think before he took her nipple into his mouth. There was a slight shock when he bit her, and when he pulled away, a warm breeze cooled the wet spot he’d created.

“Lower,” she said, and though the word had to have come out of her, she didn’t remember thinking it.

Her instruction worked, and a few seconds later, her shorts were being shimmied down her hips. and West’s lips pressed against the soft curve of her belly.

“Here?” he asked, one eyebrow arched, and she lifted her hips toward him in response. “Use your words. I know you’ve got them.”

Evie looked straight at West.

His fingers dug into flesh of her hips, and his chin hovered at the spot below her bellybutton, waiting for her to say what she wanted.

“Lower.”

When he obliged, she lost control and was completely at his mercy. She knew he liked it that way, because he would bring her close and pull away, leaving her with clumps of sheets balled up in her fists. He looked up at her with a devilish grin, so she knew it was on purpose. When she reached her breaking point, she said, “Please,” in agony, and when he smiled, she knew it was what he’d wanted the whole time—for her to beg.

As Evie caught her breath, completely and utterly spent, he lingered there, his cheek resting against her thigh. His fingers grazed the skin behind her knee, and it was all too much and not enough.

“Come back here.” She pulled him to her, and soon he was pressing his lips to hers, taking his time. But she was in a hurry because with just a few touches, he’d made her realize how badly she needed him. When he stopped and pulled away, her chest tightened and her heart skipped a beat. Then he unbuttoned his shorts and let them fall to the floor. She was still staring when he reached into the pocket and pulled out a foil packet.

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