Tanner always did give the very best forehead kisses.
His hands drift down my arms, to my hands, and our fingers link. “How hungry are you?”
“I can wait.” I squeal when he lifts me into his arms and carries me down a hallway to what I assume is his bedroom. It also faces the water and is a total bachelor pad, with nothing on the white walls, simple black furniture, and a messy bed.
He tosses me onto the bed playfully, then jumps over me and crawls up my body, kissing his way to my neck.
He still hasn’t kissed me on the lips, and I’mdyingfor his lips to be on mine.
Finally, his mouth hovers just an inch from my own, and I can’t stand it anymore.
“Are you ever going to kiss me?”
“Oh, yeah,” he whispers, his eyes pinned to my mouth. “I’m going to kiss you, sweetheart.”
He drags his knuckles down my cheek, tips my chin up just a bit, and then he sinks into me, and everything else just melts away.
This man cankiss.Never too much tongue or lips too firm. Never too needy or sloppy.
Just absolutelyperfect.
And he kisses me like his life depends on it. Like his only job in this world is to kiss my lips and drive me wild.
It’s been more than a dozen years, and yet it feels like no time has passed at all as his hands move down my side, then back up to cup my breast. I arch up into him, yearning for more, and he obliges, pinching my nipple through the fabric of my shirt and bra.
“Naked,” I murmur against his lips. “We have to get naked.”
“We will.” He nibbles down my jawline, returns to my neck, and his hand dives farther south and pops open the button of my jeans. “I remember every inch of your body, but I can’t wait to explore and rediscover you.”
“I’m not the same.” I gasp when his hand drifts under my panties and cups me, making everything in me tighten with anticipation. My hands dive into his thick, dark hair and hold on as he takes my body on one hell of a ride, even with my clothes still on.
He’ll destroy me once he gets me naked.
But what a way to go.
“I always loved this little birthmark,” he says, after pulling my shirt up and revealing the brown mark on my stomach. “It looks like Kentucky.”
I giggle, then sigh when he runs his tongue over that spot.
“They say that birthmarks are an indication of how you died in a previous life.”
He pulls up and raises an eyebrow as he studies me. “So, what do you think this one means?”
“I was probably stabbed.” I shrug. “But in a noble fashion, on a battlefield, fighting for King and country.”
“Huh.” He glances down at it once again and returns to kissing me. He peels my jeans down my legs and tosses them over his shoulder, then pushes my shirt up over my head, and I’m left lying here, just in my underwear.
And, miraculously, I’m not even a little self-conscious about it.
I reach for him, but he shakes his head.
“There is a zero percent chance that you’re going to let me be the only one naked here.” He smirks and gives in to me pulling his shirt off, then I climb up to my knees and reach for his pants.
“Fuck me, you’re beautiful.”
His words make me pause, my hands on the waistband of his pants, and I stare into his blue eyes. “You’re distracting me.”
“Sorry.” His lips twitch as I finish the job of getting Tanner down to his own underwear, and then we’re a tangle of limbs and tongues and moans as we tumble over the bed, hungry for each other in a way that hasn’t happened for me since I was with him when I was eighteen.