Oops, Wrong Bride? Fine. No Wedding. novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Shem Creek

Hayes didn't move out of the doorway.

He just looked at me, the dish towel still over his shoulder, the kitchen light behind him.

"Say it again," he said.

"I'm not here about the rent."

"What are you here about?"

"You know what."

"I want to hear you say it, Liza."

My face went hot. I lifted my chin anyway.

"I'm here because I've wanted you to take me to bed since you carried my cake out of your mother's hotel."

His shoulders dropped, and a low laugh broke from his throat.

Then he pulled the towel off his shoulder, dropped it on the floor, and reached for me.

He pulled me inside by the waist and kissed me against the kitchen counter.

The kiss was nothing like the one in his truck.

That one had been careful.

This one wasn't.

His mouth came down hard, and his hands slid under my tank top, and I made a sound against his lips that I'd never made in my life.

It wasn't polite.

I didn't care.

I dragged his T-shirt up his chest and over his head and dropped it on the floor with the dish towel.

Then I put my mouth on his chest.

He went still.

His skin was hot and tasted like salt and dish soap, and his heart was beating fast under my tongue.

"Liza," he said.

I looked up at him.

"Shut up," I said.

He laughed, low and surprised, and I felt it through his ribs.

I unbuttoned his jeans.

I didn't tease.

I didn't hesitate.

I shoved his jeans down his hips and took his cock in my hand.

He was already hard.

Because of me.

The breath went out of him in one long rush.

"I'm not going to be polite tonight," I said.

"Good."

"I mean it, Hayes. I've been polite for three years."

"I know."

"I'm going to be loud, and greedy, and I'm going to ask for exactly what I want."

His gray eyes went dark.

"Ask, then."

I squeezed him once, slowly, and watched his jaw tighten.

"I want your mouth on me first," I said.

He lifted me onto the counter before I finished the sentence.

The tile was cold through my shorts.

He pulled my tank top over my head, then my bra, and his hands came up to my breasts, rough and warm.

Then his mouth.

He sucked one nipple, then the other, and I grabbed the back of his head and held him there.

The fan turned above us.

The frogs were loud through the open window.

"Bossy," he said against my skin.

"Bossier than your crew?"

"Much."

He bit me lightly, and I gasped.

Then he lifted me off the counter and carried me down the short hall to his bedroom.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.

His back was solid under my palms.

The bedroom was dark except for the light from the kitchen and the moon on the creek.

An iron bed with a quilt.

A window open over the water.

He laid me down on the quilt.

It smelled like him, like cedar and salt.

He stood over me for a second, just looking.

Then he reached for my braid and pulled the tie loose with his fingers, slowly, while I watched his face.

He spread my hair out across the pillow.

"You have no idea," he said.

"What?"

"How long I've thought about this."

"Show me."

He pulled my shorts down and my underwear with them, and then I was bare under him.

He knelt on the floor at the end of the bed.

He put his hands on my knees and parted them.

I watched him lower his head.

The first touch of his tongue on my clit made me arch off the mattress.

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