“Let me go!” she shrieks, laughing so hard that it seems like she might cry.
And then bam! The wind is knocked out of me momentarily when her bare foot buries itself into my gut. Instinctively I release her other ankle. She stops, on her hands and knees, looking across at me with wide eyes, shocked and riddled with guilt.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to kick you that hard!” She winces.
I growl under my breath, low and guttural, shooting her with the most pretend pissed-off look I can manage, my jaw grinding harshly behind my mud-caked cheeks. Sienna’s eyes get wider. Mine get meaner. Sienna’s lips press together hard. My nostrils flare. And then, just when she intends to crawl over to me through the mud and console me with her girlish innocence, my lips turn up at one corner, my glare shifts, and she knows she’s in for it. She takes off in the opposite direction, laughing and shrieking as she tries desperately to get to her feet.
“No! Please!” She chortles, looking back as I’m coming up behind her on my hands and knees.
She flings herself out of the mud and onto the grass, and just as she’s clambering to her feet, my hand collapses around her ankle and she’s on her back before she knows what’s happening, sliding toward me. I’m on top of her in seconds, straddling her with my knees pressed into the grass on either side of her hips, glaring down at her shrinking, laughing face.
“I’m sorry!” she cries out, tears in her eyes.
Her arms are stretched out at her sides, my hands securing them against the wet grass.
“You kicked me,” I tell her.
“You laughed!” She cackles, struggling futilely underneath my one-hundred-eighty-pound weight.
“You said you weren’t afraid of bugs.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want them in my clothes!”
A quiet calm passes between us; Sienna’s laughter subsides, her smile softening. She’s so beautiful, even with mud streaked across her face and clinging to her eyebrows.
I’ve wanted to be with her since the first night she stayed in my house. A part of me hoped she’d initiate sex. I’ve laid on the couch every night since she’s been here, imagining her coming into the living room to get me, or calling for me from my room for something stupid like a glass of water, just to get me in there. But the other part of me hoped she wouldn’t, as if I want to wait as long as I can, and I’m afraid that if she gives in to me too soon, I might feel differently about her like I do with every other girl. But if she were some other girl, I might’ve initiated it myself already, and she’d surely be gone by the very next day. But with Sienna it’s different. Everything is different. I want her more than anything, especially right now as I feel her body beneath me. And I know it must be obvious to her just how much I want her, but I don’t care. I don’t try to hide my hard-on this time. And she doesn’t seem to mind.
I lean in closer and study her features with a calculated sweep of my gaze, fighting my growing feelings for her and my ever-present conscience. Her hazel eyes—more green today than brown—the plump heart shape of her lips, and her cute nose and the freckles splashed all over that I want to kiss individually no matter how long it takes. The smell of her skin and her breath and her soft hair makes me ache with need. I grow even harder against her, having never imagined that I could get any harder. Leaning over farther, my fingers tightening around her delicate wrists, I press myself eagerly against her below. A little gasp escapes her parted lips and it alone drives me insane. I bite down on the inside of my mouth—God, what I wouldn’t do to strip off her clothes and take her right here. Or even just to put my fingers inside of her, or pleasure her with my mouth—I’d do whatever she asked me to do.
Sienna
Feeling how hard Luke is through his shorts—I can hardly stand it. My skin is covered in goose bumps, a fluttery sensation swirls around in my chest, and there’s an unrelenting feeling of need tugging between my legs.
“Kiss me,” I tell him in a soft whisper; I can already taste his sweet breath, and I ache to taste the rest of him.
Without hesitation his lips cover mine, both of his hands moving from my wrists to the sides of my face, where he holds on so tight that I wouldn’t be able to move my head if I tried. His tongue is powerful and warm and sweet as he steals my breath away; my eyes flutter blissfully behind the lids. And even though I taste a little mud in our mouths and feel the dirty, watery sensation on my cheeks beneath his firm hands, I don’t care and I never want this kiss to end.
Luke breaks the kiss slowly, letting his delicious lips linger on mine before finally pulling away.
I swallow nervously, looking up at him.
The creaking sound of the hinges on the back screen door shake us both from our passionate stupor.
“Ah shit—bad timing.” Seth stands at the back door with no hair on his head and an apologetic look on his face.
Luke’s chest rises and falls a little deeper than normal, and then he gets to his feet, taking my hand and bringing me up with him. Water drips from us both, down the backs of our bare legs, and for me, in places that make me cringe inwardly, thinking about needing a shower. Stat.
Seth rubs the palm of his hand across the back of his shaved head. “Sorry to barge in on yah like this,” he says. A dark gray T-shirt hugs his muscular form, partially tucked behind a belt holding up a pair of black cargo shorts.
“It’s all right,” Luke says as we’re ascending the back steps. “What’s goin’ on?”
I get the feeling right away that Luke might have something more harsh to say to Seth if I weren’t standing among them. “I thought you were going to hang back for a while?”