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“Hey, I had stuff to work through.”

Royal brushed my hair back from my face, cupping my cheek in his hand. “I'll try to make sure I'm worth the effort.”

I closed the distance between us, putting my mouth to his ear. “I already know you are.”

I could spend the rest of my life kissing this man.

That was the last coherent thought I had.

Royal turned on the long swing, taking me with him, and propped his back against the padded arm, me on top of him. Our legs tangled, his mouth took mine, our kiss tasting of chocolate and champagne.

Royal's hand slipped under the hem of my shirt, fingertips stroking my skin. I wanted skin. I wanted to touch. I wanted to feel him all over, to satisfy the ache between my legs. The hard bar of his erection pressed between us.

I wanted to slide my hand there, to stroke and squeeze, but the narrow porch swing didn't leave me enough room. Royal’s hips rolled into mine, his hardness trapped against my heat, my breath coming in pants.

My body was liquid, my lips moving on his out of instinct, my brain shut off in favor of sensation. His hard hands on my hips, his soft lips, the way his mouth owned mine. I needed more, my long-ignored sex drive coming back to life with a vengeance. I didn't just want sex. I wanted Royal. My hips rolled into his, knees spreading wider, his hard length pressing exactly where I needed it.

Abruptly, Royal pulled his mouth from mine and tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling of the porch, his own breath short and fast. “We have to stop,” he muttered, blinking rapidly as if he found his words as crazy as I did.

“Stop?” I repeated, dazed.

“I didn't bring you here for this, Daisy.” His hand stroked down my back, resettling my shirt before he corrected, “Well, I brought you here partly for this. But not for more. Not yet. Not here.”

I could barely believe it when I reminded him, “There's a bed inside.”

Royal's laugh was rough-edged. “Don't remind me. I want to get my hands all over you, believe me. Just not yet.”

“We don't need to wait,” I offered, not sure I understood.

Royal nuzzled that spot beneath my ear, sending a bolt of lust all the way to my toes. “Yes, we do. I do. I need to wait. When I get you naked, I want time and privacy. And I want you to know that it means something.”

“You don't have to prove anything to me, Royal,” I said, surprising myself. I would have thought that's exactly what I'd want. I guess it was—before. After seeing that hint of uncertainty in his eyes, I knew he wasn't playing me.

Royal brushed a hand over my hair, his eyes soft. “It's not about proving something to you. You're important, Daisy. I know we're just getting started, but you're not a fling. I don't want to rush.”

I didn't know what to say. A joke sprang to my lips about pretending we were a fling or using him for sex. I kept my mouth shut. This wasn't the time. Digging deep for courage, I told him the truth. “You're important, too, Royal. I wouldn't be ready for more if you weren't. But I can wait until you're ready, too.”

Royal's chest rumbled in a laugh. “I must be nuts. But I still want to wait.”

I only hummed in my throat in response.

We stayed where we were, stretched out on the swing. Royal dropped a foot to the porch and nudged, sending us swaying gently back and forth. In the trees on the other side of the railing a firefly lit, then another.

I rested my head on Royal's chest, listening to the thump of his heart in one ear and the babble of the river in the other as he stroked his hand up and down my spine. With each pass of his hand, I melted into him a little more.

This was heaven. Right here, cradled against Royal, the warm evening shrouding us in calm quiet. I didn't stir until I felt my eyes drooping shut.

Into the dark, Royal said, “I have to get you home before we fall asleep here and we're too stiff to walk tomorrow.”

“I'd love to call you an old man for saying that, but I fell asleep on my couch the other day and my back was killing me when I woke up. I've reached the age where I have to sleep in a bed.”

“No camping for you?” Royal rubbed the backs of his fingers against my cheek.

“Camping is an exception. I haven't been in forever, but I'll sleep on the ground if I'm in a tent.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Royal insisted on driving me home. He pulled into the parking spot behind the bakery and got out, my hand in his as he walked me upstairs to my door.


Tags: Ivy Layne The Hearts of Sawyers Bend Romance