Page 9 of Close to You

She bends one leg. “Okay, I’ll get onto?—”

“Uh-huh. I got you.” My fingers dig into her slender waist, and her fingers curl into my shoulders.

My balls tighten at the feel of her hands on me.

Fuck. Concentrate, Oliver.Not on how good she feels in your arms, or how much you’d like to kiss her. Taste her. Have her. Concentrate on steadily hoisting her up, making her believe she’s safe and secure.

With a deep inhale, I lift her until she’s firmly standing on the desk. Her legs are at my eye level, and damn, I need to stop staring at her porcelain skin and lean muscles. My fingers itch to trace a line down her silky smooth calf.

Jaw clenched, I knit my fingers together and place the makeshift foothold in front of her.

“My boots…” She hesitates. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

Tightening her grip on my shoulder, she rests one foot on my interlocked fingers, and I push her upward.

“You all right?” I make the mistake of glancing up and get an eyeful under her dress.

Bare, toned thighs and her magnificent heart-shaped ass in a pair of lime-green form-fitting boy shorts.

Fuck me.

“Yes. What about you? Are you okay?” Her voice carves through my lust-filled thoughts.

“Yeah.” My tone has more of an edge as I grit my teeth so as to keep it together. “Don’t worry about me.”

Her upper body leans against the wall, and her arms reach for the window. “There’s a latch but it won’t budge. It’s been painted over and…” She huffs out a strained breath, swaying with the effort, and I tighten my grip on her boot, the other going for her legs.

The instant my fingers wind around her firm calf, she utters a half gasp, half hiss. “Shit, Oliver.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah. It’s just that it’s glued shut. I can’t get the latch to move.”

Not bothering to hide it, I being to lower her. I’m a bit too eager to get her down and onto firm footing. “Okay. You tried.” My urgency is as much for her safety as my sanity. “Down you come.”

Holding her like this for any longer and I’ll be more than full-on gawking at all that’s beautiful and sinful under her dress. I’ll want to touch and savor, consequences be damned.

Carefully, using my body for leverage, I lower Wren. Her soft curves glide along my torso, and it takes everything in me not to release a long, drawn-out hum of appreciation.

Her feet hit the floor, but I don’t let go. She tilts her neck to look up at me, and her lips, lush and rosy like the natural hue of her cheeks, are only inches away. I’ve stared at those lips so many times, remembering the one and only time I kissed her.

Does she taste the same? Sweet like honey. And I can only imagine the sounds she’d make. If I got to kiss her again, once wouldn’t be enough.

A searing, quivering heat sweeps through me, from the top of my head all the way to the tip of my toes. I’m shaken with an impulse, out of my control. She’s a flower and I’m a steadfast bee, drawn to her nectar.

I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. I’m in so much trouble.

My mouth coasts over hers, at first soft and tentative, but when she moans and tips her head back for a better angle, I take her lower lip between mine and suck with deliberate intention of making her moan.

Her chest thrusts into mine, her back arches, and when she whimpers my name, I’m almost undone by the possibility that she may have hungered for this as much as I have.

The lights flicker and we break apart, both glancing up at the ceiling as we’re plunged into darkness.

Chapter4

Wren

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