Page 42 of Alive and Wells

She tips her head, letting her hair radiate out across the glassy water behind her. Pressing her breasts up to the surface. There’s no way I’m not going to look when they’re perfect and round and right in my sight line.

“Seems to me Wells Ranch has a bit of a stray cat problem. There’s a lot of us hanging around. But you know what they say about feeding strays, and Beryl’s constantly baking delicious stuff.”

“Guess I’ll have to give her a raise if that’s the only thing keeping people here.”

“She definitely deserves one, but I don’t think her muffins are the only thing worth sticking around for.”

When she lifts her head, a bead of water rolls from her temple down her cheek before clinging to her jaw. Before I have time to consider whether I shouldn’t, I reach out and gently catch it on my finger. A slow smirk draws across her lips.

“Hey, Austin, notice anything different?”

My eyes narrow at her as I anxiously try to figure out what she’s talking about. She drifts through the chest-deep water. Closer. Closer. Until we’re almost touching, and she’s still smirking up at me. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be noticing, but that question always feels like a test coming from a woman, so I’m beginning to panic.

“I’ll give you a hint.” Her hand lifts above her head, and water falls from the ends of her fingertips. Drops land on her hairline before gracefully sliding down her cheek. Her eyes never leave mine. “Aren’t you going to wipe them away for me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I raise my hand, nerves burning a hole in my stomach as I prepare for her to pull back.

Not a single twitch, fear flicker, tug of anxiety. There’s simply… nothing.

There’s no way she can’t hear the aggressive pounding in my chest, not with the way the rest of the world seems to have become utterly silent. My palm cupping her face makes her jaw become slack in my hand, and her lips slowly part. With my pinky finger resting on the delicate skin of her neck, the drumming of her heartbeat changes the rhythm of my own. I’m completely at her mercy, and that’s exactly where I want to be.

18

Cecily

Hiseyes—dark,intoxicating,andfull of unknown emotions—are locked on mine.

A rough, worn hand catches my face with an unexpectedly tender caress. His touch moves briskly upward to my hair like he’s striking a match—igniting a fire in my core. His fingers comb through my wet hair until he reaches the nape of my neck. And a gentle tug sends a tremor down my back, which makes his nostrils flare.

“Please,” I whisper, praying my lips might make brief contact with his as I speak. “Please don’t pull away.”

“Darlin’, I told you I—”

“Show me how gentle you can be. Show me I can trust you.” My hands slide across his bare chest, feeling the raised skin over his brand, then over his shoulders and down his thick arms. If I’m breathing, it’s just barely. “I want you to kiss me.”

I’m paralyzed with anticipation as his lips draw closer. Slowly, closer. And closer. Until they’re so dangerously close, I can feel his warm breath fanning across my face. His eyes remain transfixed and I can’t bring myself to close mine. Instead, I’m swimming in the molasses of his gaze, completely helpless. Thank God for the lake water’s buoyancy or I would be a boneless puddle on the ground.

Our lips brush in a touch so faint I’m left wondering if it really happened. Only proving to me how badly I want this. Filled with anticipation and desire, revelling in the ache beneath my pelvic bone.

Then he kisses me.Unmistakably. With hot, supple lips and tenderness I’ve never felt. Slow and explorative. He breathes me in and, on the exhale, obliterates me with a deep, impassioned kiss. I sink into him with a quiet moan. It’s the feeling of coming home from a long trip. It’s the warmth of the summer sun as you lie in a hammock with a great book. It’s the kind of kiss that lasts forever and ends too soon.

When his hands run up my naked back, I have to resist the urge to flinch. I don’t want to be this girl. I want my body to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I’m safe with him. I want him to see there isn’t a single piece of me off-limits anymore. I want to be touched. Be loved. I fight my nervous system and ease back into his warm palms.

His lips brand mine, searing his name across the tender skin. There’s an ache in my bones and a tremor in my heart. Piece by piece, Austin’s mending me. And I kiss him harder, knowing I’m never going to take this moment for granted.

I’ve never felt this alive.

I can’t help but notice the way his fingers spread as his hands run down my body. As if he’s trying to feel as much of my skin as he possibly can. As if he can’t get enough. He pulls back momentarily and studies me. Austin’s eyes mirror the conflicting and expansive emotions swirling behind my own. From what I see, this kiss is blissful and healing and scary for him, too.

His lips sweep across my cheek until the heat of his voice blows against my ear. “Can I kiss you again?”

Yes. Yes. Goddammit, yes.

“Please.”

His lips crash into mine; he’s kissing like he’s starved for me. I nip at his bottom lip, and he holds my hips, pulling our bodies tight together. His hands slide to the backs of my thighs, sending a lightning bolt straight to my clit. Austin lifts me so my upper half is above the water, and a warm breeze instantly dries my skin. My legs encircle his waist, fitting us together like puzzle pieces.

I’m consumed by the way his hands roam across my body before wrapping in my hair. This isn’t enough and it mightneverbe enough. I want all of him. More than that, I want him to have all of me. My hips subconsciously gyrate against his, driven by a feeling that’s been dormant for years.Wanting.

---