Page 9 of Mine to Love

Her bare shoulder teases me. Yeah. Reese probably writes out her schedule in lipstick on her arm.

Lipstick.

Lips.

Sweet, full lips.

I let my mind drift back to the kiss we shared three months ago and jump when a hand squeezes my thigh.

Not a hand. Her hand. Reese squeezes again then messages me gently from my kneecap right up to where my pants begin to tug again.

“Reese,” I warn.

“Logan,” she moans, trailing her hand up my stomach, where I can’t help but suck it in a little.

“Where,” I clear my throat. “Where’s your road?” I follow her directions which leads me to a stop sign at a four-way intersection.

A low chuckle rumbles in her throat. “Right.”

I glance to my left, then my right, not missing her bright smile, and turn. The homes aren’t too close together giving each property owner a decent amount of privacy.

They’re typical middle class two-story Cape Cod style homes. A few have attached garages. The landscape is minimal, but being March there isn’t much of anything that is growing in Maine.

“Which house?”

“Go all the way...to the end.”

I continue crawling down the residential road and squint when I come to a dead end. There aren’t any homes on either side, just a lot of woods and a trail marked for ATVs and snowmobiles.

“Did I pass it?”

Reese unbuckles her seat belt and twists in her seat. “You’re almost there.”

She takes my face in her hand and turns it toward her, then lowers her lips to mine. I shouldn’t be shocked. The signals coming off her were hot and heavy all night.

When she traces my lips with her tongue, I open to her and thread my fingers through her hair, loosening her bun. She sighs in my mouth and I echo the sigh in return. She tastes exactly how I remembered. And so much more.

The grapefruit tang from the IPA still lingers, and I lap up her natural sweetness, tangling my tongue with hers as I pull her closer to me.

I massage her scalp with the tips of my fingers then slide my hands down her neck and across her bare shoulder, slipping my finger under the strap of her pink bra.

Reese presses harder into me and leans toward the car door, fumbling around for something. A moment later, my chair glides back and reclines. In one swift move, she climbs over the center console and straddles me.

“Shit. Reese.” I look around, relieved we’re in a semi-private area, but a kid could be walking their dog, or someone could come out of the trail.

Granted, it isn’t likely with it being so dark and cold out.

“Turn it off,” she says, moving her hands between our bodies.

I break the kiss. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so carried away.” I place my hands on her hips and move her back a few inches, so her crotch isn’t being poked by my aching erection.

Reese laughs. Not quietly either. She tips her head back and giggles. “Not you. Keep it on. Keep turning me on.” She cups my cheeks in her hands. “The car. Turn the car off.”

Sighing with relief, I blindly reach behind her and do as instructed.

“Perfect. Now take this off.” She gets the first two buttons undone before I have time to process what’s about to go down.

“Reese.”

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