He grinned, his eyes bugging out ever so slightly at all of the information I’d just laid on him. “Now, I have a good memory. Not the best, but I’m pretty sure I’d remember asking you to be in a relationship with me.”
I stared at him. Holy fuck. He was right. He hadn’t asked for a relationship. Hadn’t even made a move, for that matter. “But you mow my lawn,” I said weakly. “You hang out with my kids. You’re always going out of your way to talk to me.”
“Yeah, I like being around you,” he replied. “Like your kids.” His eyes flickered over me. It was a quick glance, but I felt it everywhere. “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t want to. I fuckin’ do. But I know you’re not ready. Know you’re going through some shit right now. So I’m waiting.”
“You’re waiting,” I repeated.
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m waitin’. Till you’re ready. Because no fucking way am I letting any other guy have the chance when you are. I want that chance. So I’m waiting.”
I blinked. Several times. My mouth felt dry, and the rest of my body was flaming hot. “Why would you want to wait?”
His eyes did that thing again. My body also did that thing. Again. “Why wouldn’t I want to wait?” His voice was husky now. Sexy.
Okay, this was not supposed to be going this way. I definitely was not supposed to be reacting this way. All of my sexual urges needed to be muted for at least another year. Two years maybe. That was acceptable. Three years would’ve been preferable. Even then, I would only allow sexual dalliances two towns over, leaving right after it was done. There was not going to be any men going in and out of my children’s lives. No.
So right now, the smart thing would’ve been to banish this beautiful man from my home and from my life. Then I’d drink the rest of my beer and go to bed, grab the vibrator from my bedside table and think about his voice and the looks he gave me. Which was already bad enough because I should’ve been thinking about my dead husband.
But what I did instead was place my beer on the coffee table, reached over and did the same to Kace’s. Then, I pounced.
Our mouths met in a clash of tongues, teeth and pure need. He kissed me back immediately, though I was pretty sure he was not expecting me to jump on him like a horny hyena.
Before long, we were completely horizontal, me on top of him, grinding my body against his.
“Lizzie,” he rasped, pushing at me enough so our mouths detached.
I did not like that. The pause in the frenzy was too stark, too dangerous, potentially giving me time to think and realize the mistake I was making.
“No talking,” I ordered, trying to move forward again, before common sense kicked in.
He held fast, but at least it looked like it was a struggle for him. There was fire in his eyes, his entire body taut with what I hoped was restraint.
“Lizzie,” he ground out. “Need to know that this isn’t me takin’ advantage of you.”
I groaned, hating that him being this sensitive and considerate turned me on.
“No, I’m taking advantage of you,” I hissed.
He let me kiss him then. Let me take control. Though I didn’t feel like I had control. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a conscious choice. It was a need. The kiss lasted forever. Hands in my hair. On my ass.
Clothes needed to come off. I needed to feel his skin. In fact, I needed him inside me. More than anything in this moment, that’s what I needed. My shirt was already heavy, dragging me down, I wanted to claw it off. But there was no way we could have sex on the couch with the prospect of my kids walking in.
No, couldn’t think of them. Couldn’t think of anything.
“Bedroom,” I murmured, my own voice rough.
He didn’t hesitate. In an instant, we were no longer kissing on the sofa. My legs were wrapped around his hips, his hard-on pressing into me, his plump lips still on mine. I didn’t pay attention to the fact that we were walking through the house like this, I was too busy with the kissing thing and almost orgasms from kissing and dry humping.
The door to my bedroom closed quietly, that small sound jerking me into somewhat of a coherent state.
“Not the bed,” I all but hissed as he began to move across the room.
Panic clutched at my throat with the idea of us doing what I wanted to do in my bed. Our bed. No. I wasn’t ready for that.
Kace didn’t hesitate either, moving to the bathroom, putting me down on the counter. His mouth went to my neck then down, yanking the fabric of my tank to the side so his lips landed on my nipple.