Page 245 of Out of Left Field

I sat on his lap and took his face in my hands. His eyes were wide with hope and his breaths were shuddered as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. They were so kissable and that look in his eyes made me melt. There was no doubt in my mind that Everett desired me. No man had ever looked at me with such appreciation.

I felt special.

So I kissed his lower lip. It was a whisper of a kiss, really. Then his top lip. His fingers tightened on my hips, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t move a muscle. I pressed kisses to each corner of his mouth.

Here was this large, powerful man, holding himself back. His muscles strained from the effort. His breath grew ragged as I kissed him behind the ear and ran my fingers through his beard.

And when I finally kissed him fully on the mouth he still didn’t move. Anyone else might have thought he wasn’t enjoying himself, but I wasn’t anyone. I knew this man and Everett was having a very, very good time.

Painful, maybe. But good.

Especially when I deepened the kiss and let my tongue slide along his. I tasted him at my own speed, learned the shape of his lips, and all the right ways to pull a moan from his chest.

And then I eased back, biting my lower lip because I was smiling so widely it almost hurt, and asked, “Did you like that?”

He nodded slowly.

“So did I.”

He took a long deep breath and blew it out in one shaky groan.

I was torturing him a little. I didn’t mean to at the start, but when I realized he’d put me fully in the driver’s seat, it simply came naturally.

And because it was fun, I went back to my seat and picked up my fork like that wasn’t one of the top five kisses of my life.

Everett shook his head and laughed. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you, Willa Cooper?”

“You chose to fall in love with me.”

Another laugh. “I certainly did not. There was no choice on my part. If anything you made me fall for you.”

“I certainly did not.”

We finished our dinner in silence all while trading long, lustful glances. I had never said so much with my eyes before and never had anyone spend so much time drinking in every inch of me like this.

It was an entirely different kind of hot.

When he was done Everett stood up and hooked a finger at me.

I arched an eyebrow. “What is that for?”

He pointed to the living room. “We’ve used a bed and now a chair. It’s time to make out on the couch.”

“Make out?” I somehow doubted we’d keep it from escalating.

But then a little panic hit me again. Slow. I needed to sort through things slowly. Kissing Everett had been good. I needed to let my mind wrap around the idea that was something we did now. To process how right it felt. If we kept blasting through milestones I was never going to get my feet under me.

“Babe?” Everett knelt beside me and hooked his finger under my chin. “It’s just kissing. I’m not letting anything else happen until this look stops appearing on your face. We’re not the rushing kind.”

“Didn’t seem that way in the cottage.”

His grin was wicked. “I blame that on too many pent-up feelings. We let them out and now we’re dealing with them, which means first we kiss until kissing feels so natural we forget it was ever something we didn’t do. Got it?”

Sometimes you carry so many burdens on your shoulders that the weight becomes normal. Something that’s simply always there. It isn’t heavy or cumbersome because it’s become part of you.

Until some of it lifts and you realize just how heavy it was and how much lighter you feel with some of it gone.

That’s exactly how I felt in that moment. A mix of breathtakingly happy and bone weary sad. I was grateful to not only have Everett back, but to be exploring this new possibility between us.