Page 73 of Your Hand in Mine

The next move is his.

He’s contacted me over the past week, simple texts that would seem routine or mundane to anyone else, but I’m reading between the lines.

Olivia keeps making me show her next Tuesday on the calendar. She’s going to drive me nuts until you come back.

How are Garth and Sienna and the baby doing? Tell everyone me and Libs say hello.

It’s quiet around here without you around.

I tell him to give Olivia hugs and kisses from me, tell him that James is getting so big and starting to babble a lot, and I remind him that Olivia’s new lunch bag should be coming in the mail this week. But to that last text I reply:I miss you, too.

I don’t have it in me to go slow anymore. I kind of saidscrew itlast week, so there’s no point in trying to go in reverse and be cautious now.

I’ve been flighty all week, daydreamy and smiling to myself. And while I’m enjoying this time with my sweet little nephew, and with Sienna and Garth, the truth is I’m itching to get back.

I want his hands on me the way they were last week. I want his kiss.

The look on his face was priceless. I saw the light turn on in the living room when he came back down from putting Olivia to bed, and I timed it so that he’d catch me lowering myself into the pool. I packed away those prim one-piece numbers I’d bought for the summer and slipped into one of my bikinis instead. Yeah, the one that shows more than a little bit of cheek.

“It’s so hot tonight,” I whispered when I turned to see him watching me.

“I told you to sleep in the house. You’re always so damn stubborn.”

“I’m fine sleeping out here.”

“It’s not dropping below ninety tonight,” he said absently, eyes fixed on my body.

I ducked under and then came up in the shallow end so I was standing in waist-deep water. It wasn’t fair, putting the goods on display like that, but I was looking to push him. Laying back into the water to float, I said, “It feels good in here.”

He stood there saying nothing for a minute, just watching as I floated and stared right back up at him. And just when I was starting to fear that he was going to turn around and go back inside, to reject me, Leo pushed his shorts down over his hips and let them drop to the deck.

I stood back up, chest-deep in the water now, and looked over every inch of him.Is it me, do I make him hard like that?I knew the answer to that question and it made me feel powerful.

“Come in,” I said, and he obeyed.

When he got close, I slipped my arms around his neck and pressed into him, eager to feel him against me.

“Skylar.”

This time he didn’t speak my name like a warning. No, he wasn’t fighting his conscience anymore. This time my name was whispered in reverence and laced with desire.

Leo lifted me and wrapped my legs around his waist before lowering his head. “You sure?”

I kissed him, licked the seam of his lips until he opened up for me and took over. A low moan rose from chest as he crossed the pool to the steps, kissing me uninterrupted as he walked us up and out of the water and then laid me down on my bed in the pool house.Leo broke the kiss and stood back up, never taking his eyes off me as he pushed the snug, wet fabric of his boxers down his hips and thighs. I sat up, wanted to make sure his eyes stayed fixed on me as I undressed for him too. I watched his face as I undid the front tie of my bikini top, heard him drag in a breath as I revealed myself to him. He didn’t let me get to my bottoms. He pinned my hands above my head and laid me back as he continued to stare.

“Leo,” I pleaded, but I didn’t say anything more. He knew I wanted him, knew I wanted him to ease everything in me that ached.

“You’re so beautiful, Sky. Everything about you is beautiful.”

He lowered his head then, took one breast in his mouth, taking his time as he sucked and licked. I’m not sure what sounds I was making in the lust drunk haze I was in, I just know that when I was on the verge of begging him to touch me, it’s like he heard my silent plea. One hand moved from my other breast, across my stomach and down, slipping past the fabric of my bottoms and sinking right into me. It felt so good I could hardly catch my breath. And with the heavy weight of his dick pressing into my thigh and his mouth still teasing my breasts, it was sensory overload. With one hand fisted in his hair, I was a writhing, needy mess, calling out his name and begging for him to give me what I wanted.

“That’s it…Fuck my fingers and come on my hand.”

I read somewhere that the French word translates tothe little death, and now I get it. My breaths came in shallow, my heartbeat raced, and the muscles pulsed where his hand still pressed against me. I’ve gotten there by myself before, but nothing compared to the way I felt when it was Leo’s doing, live and in the flesh as opposed to my fantasies.

I nudged my bottoms down and then slid my hand between us. He was hard as stone but went back to kissing me gently, always in control and looking to put the brakes on us. “I’m not on anything,” I whispered, and he answered back, “It’s ok, I figured that.”

“I’m sorry.”

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