Page 37 of Blame it on the Kiss
“Yes,” she half lied. Because being in his arms felt amazing and she didn’t want to move from this position.
His tickling stopped and he put one of the small couch pillows in his lap. He shifted his weight, keeping one arm wrapped around her shoulder, until her head fell onto the pillow. Then his fingers gently rubbed up and down her arm, her back. Her eyes fluttered shut.
“How’d the skating go today?”
“Good. Everyone seemed to really like it. And as far as I know there weren’t any casualties. The mayor also told me I was da bomb, so you know, I think that means he’ll be giving me a key to the city soon.”
“You know what that means, right?” His fingers dipped a little below her lower back, teasing the top of her bottom before cruising up her side.
“That I can’t hide it in a rock?”
He chuckled. She smiled. “That congratulations are in order. I think you’re the first person to successfully bring roller-skating back.”
“Thanks to you.”
“I’m pretty sure you did it without me.” His hand rubbed farther down, this time rounding the curve of her butt. Her nightshirt rose a little up her legs when his palm massaged back up to her shoulder.
Her eyes flew open. Tingles of anticipation shot straight to between her thighs. What was he doing? And please, Lord, don’t let him stop.
She swallowed and concentrated on the movie. She also didn’t move a muscle.
He accepted her silence by continuing to rub her back before moving his ministrations to her hip and dipping his hand to her front, the pads of his fingers grazing the side of her stomach and front of her thigh before pressing lightly back up her torso.
With each stroke down her body, he got more daring, more intimate. Her shirt inched up higher, exposing her black cheeky panties. He let out a tiny groan when he touched the lace that only covered half her bottom.
That barely-there sexy sound almost had her lifting her head to see if he was as turned on as she was, but she didn’t want to spoil the best back rub of her life. Every sweep of his hand up and down made her belly coil tighter in pleasure, her skin more sensitive.
She almost stopped breathing when he lifted her shirt high enough to expose her entire backside. His warm, strong hand settled at the base of her spine and stilled. Was he silently asking permission to continue? Staring at her ass and contemplating his next move?
Touch methere. “There” being that magical spot that ached and begged to have a turn with at least two of his fingers. She rolled her hips over just the tiniest bit. Spread her legs just the slightest bit. But otherwise kept her hands around the pillow in his lap and her head still, eyes on the television screen.
He slipped his hand over the curve of her waist and to the edge of her panties. She rotated a little more, lest he doubt where she wanted him to go.
Her breath came out in a short sigh the second he rubbed over her center. She didn’t feel the least bit shameful as her legs fell open and she pressed into his hand. Her heels dug into the couch, she squeezed the pillow.
“Mmm,” escaped her lips. He continued to massage, his thumb grazing over her tight nub and making her crazy. Wet. Horny beyond horny. He slipped his hand underneath the cotton and lace and the feel of his bare hand was almost more than she could take.
Until he slid one, then two fingers inside her.
She cried out and came faster and harder than she could ever remember.
He brought her down slowly, caressing with such delicate strokes that she was afraid to look at him. Afraid to speak. Raw, complicated feelings she had no idea how to handle opened her mind to a new sensation—trust.
Bryce covered her back up with her shirt and rested his hand on her upper arm. He settled deeper into the couch as if he were content to end this there. She closed her legs, shifted so her knees were bent in a comfortable position.
They watched the rest of the movie with her head still on a pillow in his lap. When it was over, he lifted her up, kissed her cheek, and said he’d pick her up at two on Saturday.
She hugged the front door as she watched him walk to his car. Because if she let go, she’d race after him and tell him to stay.
…
Bryce got home to his and Danny’s place and immediately hit the shower. He’d never been more turned on in his life than he was sitting with Honor on the couch and making her feel good. Hearing the breathless sounds she made when she came had made him harder than a steel drum. If there hadn’t been a pillow in his lap offering some barrier, he doubted he would’ve been able to reign himself in.
He knew he’d crossed a line and was treading on dangerous ground. Cooper had made it clear he didn’t want Bryce near his sister, but with her blond hair, blue-gray eyes, killer bod, and naughty smile, no guy in his right mind could look away. Look closer—something Bryce couldn’t stop doing—and there was a woman with much more to offer than a beautiful view. She had substance and sincerity and hated anyone studying her too hard. Which stupidly only made him want to know more.
What started nine months ago wasn’t over despite his mind’s protests.
He toweled off, pulled a pair of sweats on, and headed to the kitchen for a cold drink. He’d keep this unwanted connection with Honor casual because stopping didn’t appeal to him. It felt good being around her and he hadn’t felt good in a long time.
