My vest lights back up, the glow of it adding a new color to her face. Lifting my free hand to the blue that lines her jaw, I follow the color along her smooth skin, feeling the soft tremble that runs through her at my touch. With my thumb on her cheek, and my pinky just beneath her jaw, I tilt her head back. Her lips part, her laser drops to her side, and the vest strapped to her chest rises and falls quicker as her breath comes in anticipatory hitches.
I step into her with the newly created space between us and incline her head deeper as I lean forward. “That mean I’m allowed to kiss you?”
“Please, Wyatt.”
A growl of satisfaction slips from me at the plea, and I drop my head, closing the last couple of inches between us as my mouth finds hers. Soft, pliable lips meet mine, and the taste of raspberry and mint explodes across my taste buds. I haven’t even swept my tongue against her lips and I can taste the sweetness that she is. Intoxicating. Bryn is a sweet high I don’t know I’ll ever come down from.
My hand slides into her hair, the soft strands working through my fingers as I hold the back of her head, and I feel her hand land on my side, bunching my t-shirt in her grip. Her vest bumps into mine as we both try to get closer to each other, to no avail. I could curse the things, but instead I deepen our kiss, my lips parting, hers mirroring the action, like our time on the dance floor. I knew then that kissing her would be incredible, but it’s even better than I imagined.
I don’t push it further than that. An open-mouthed kiss, my lips working along hers, tongue flicking the plumpness of her lower lip. I’m going to drown in her, and I’ll do it happily in this warehouse full of neon and black light.
My vest rumbles suddenly, and at her sharp intake, I know hers is rumbling too, but I don’t break the kiss. We’ve been hit by another player, possibly two, and I quickly turn her to shield her with my body, walking her backward until her back hits the wall where she was hiding. It’s only then that I lift my mouth from hers, both of us taking a deep breath. Her eyes are still closed, cheeks flushed, even in this light, and a slow smile is widening her slightly swollen lips.
I want this moment to last forever. Wanted that kiss to last forever. To bottle it up and keep it on my dining room table where I could relive it every second of every day. She’s beyond stunning in this moment, and I never want to forget it.
When her lashes flutter and her eyes open, gifting me with those incredible hazel irises, she breathes, “I’m really glad you didn’t tag me.”
“Still can’t believe you hit me,” I chuckle.
“Worth every second.”
“Yes, ma’am, it was,” I murmur, leaning down to steal another kiss. Then I slide my lips along her cheek to her ear. “We probably have three minutes left. I’ll give you a thirty-second head start but if I catch you, you owe me another kiss.”
Her entire body shivers at my breath against the sensitive skin. “And if you don’t?”
“I owe you three.”
She pulls back, her eyes simmering with heat. “You’re never going to catch me.”
Grinning as I step back and allow her to move from between the wall and me, I watch her dart away, my eyes following that inspiring ass in those shapely jeans.
Don’t plan on catching her. Not until this game is over. Then all bets are off and all kisses are on.
Chapter 12
Bryn
Stirringmyfirstcupof coffee at the kitchen island in the main house, I brace myself when Gran’s footsteps pad across the hardwood floors. There’s no way the first words out of her mouth will be about anything except my date yesterday.
I touch my finger to my lips, still feeling the press of Wyatt’s mouth there, even after all these hours apart. He never did catch me at the end of that first match, and he made good on his promise of three kisses during the short break between games. So good, we missed the first few minutes of the second game.
“What is that?” Gran asks.
Lost in my thoughts and picturing Wyatt when he found me during the second battle, the delight in tagging me before kissing me senseless, I forgot she was on her way in here.
Glancing up from the counter where I’m still stirring a very stirred coffee, I lift my eyebrows. “What’s what?”
“That smile.”
My head tilts and I drop the smile that was, indeed, lighting up my entire face. “Nothing.”
“Liar,” she says, sweeping further into the kitchen, her ankle long, red silk housecoat billowing out behind her and her blue nightgown. Grabbing a cup out of the cabinet, she pours herself coffee from the fresh pot I made. “That smile said you were dreaming of something. Or someone.”
Caught red-handed, my cheeks instantly heat, and I give her my back, moving through the kitchen and into the dining room. It gives me a moment away from her scrutinizing gaze to try and cool my face. Sliding into my seat at the table, I look over the current puzzle we’ve been working on. A five-thousand piece that makes me smile. A turtle, deep in the ocean, swimming around an abundance of sea life.
“You made a lot of progress on Crush,” I call to Gran, pulling one of my legs up to my chest, foot on the white cushion of the high-backed chair. We’ve only been working on it for a few days, and she already has the turtle’s head nearly complete.
“Someone had to,” Gran says as she joins me at the table, her sass evidently strong this morning. “He’s not going to build himself.”