“Don’t know what the hell that was,” he murmured as he handed Etta to me, then he wrapped his arms across his chest and mock shivered.
“I’m going to lay her down,” I replied, ignoring his comment.
I needed a moment to process what the heck had just happened. The visit had gone well. Actually, it had gone great. At least for a while. I just couldn’t figure out how it had all changed so quickly, and I was now left with a huge ball of anxiety in my chest at the thought of seeing Etta’s grandparents again.
* * *
An hour later, I was sitting on the back porch with a beer, still trying to pinpoint exactly what had made my spidey-senses go so haywire, when I got a text from Trevor.
You busy?
I glanced at my shorts, bikini top, and the beer in my hand before answering. Etta was still asleep, and my dad had gone to a friend’s house. Did I give him the truth? I wasn’t sure if I was up for a chat.
Not really, I replied after a few minutes of internal debate. His reply was instant.
Good. I’m out front.
“Shit,” I mumbled, scrambling to my feet.
Hurrying through the house, I threw open the front door before he could ring the bell and wake Etta.
I probably should have taken the time to throw on a shirt.
“Oh, Jesus,” he said, taking a small step back as soon as he got a good look at me. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“I didn’t know you were coming over,” I replied.
“I just told you.”
“Yeah, that you were here.”
“Tomato, tomahto.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied, acting like I was going to leave him standing there on the front stoop. “We don’t need our carpets cleaned.”
Trevor laughed. “Do those salesmen still go door to door?” He moved closer.
“I don’t know. I don’t answer the door when strange men come knocking.”
“Sure you do.” He grinned. “You let me in.”
“Momentary lapse,” I teased. I took a step back and he took another step forward. Oh, God. Were we really doing this?
“You going to make that mistake again?” he asked softly.
I tilted my head to the side, like I was trying to decide on my answer, and that’s when he made his move. The move.
One long finger slid between my breasts and snagged the string that held my bikini top around my rib cage, just as his head dropped toward mine until our lips were millimeters apart.
“Let me in?” he asked, his breath minty and cool against my lips.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, still playing the game. “I’m not supposed to let people in when my dad isn’t home.”
Trevor groaned as his lips descended on mine.
The kiss was explosive. I knew no other word to describe it. I’d been kissed hundreds of times before, but I’d never felt it all the way to my toes the way I felt it then. The lips I’d watched smile widely, and grin secretly, pressed against mine until there was no space between us.
When his tongue slid against mine, questioning yet completely confident, my knees threatened to buckle. He tasted the way he smelled, like mint and something unique to Trevor.
Without a word, he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me off my feet so he could carry me fully into the house. As soon as the door shut behind him, all pretense of civility was gone. I couldn’t have described the thoughts that ran through my head if I’d tried. We were greedy and almost desperate as we tore at each other’s clothes. His shirt dropped to the floor first. My shorts followed. Then his shoes, and his shorts.
Somehow, we maneuvered ourselves to the kitchen table, and I yelped as my ass hit the edge, but neither of us paused. My hands slid into the back of his boxer briefs as his fingers untied the bikini straps at my neck. His mouth tore from mine, but before I could protest, his lips were wrapped around my nipple and he was sliding the bikini bottoms down my legs.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he moved his mouth to my sternum. “Do you want me to stop?”
I jerked in surprise, and tilted my head down to look at him, wondering if he was teasing me. What I found in his expression was completely the opposite of what I’d expected. He was serious. His breath was coming in huge gulps and his body was practically radiating with tension, but he was absolutely still.
It was the moment of truth, the split second of sanity when I could have stopped everything.
“No,” I said quietly, catching his hands and setting them back on my hips when he misunderstood me. “I don’t want you to stop.”
“I’m not trying to rush you,” he said in relief, pressing his face between my breasts, before turning his head and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “We haven’t talked about this or—”