“Emily.” He lay back in the grass scowling. “You’re overthinking this.”
“But Sculpt—”
“No buts, Emily. I can’t handle any buts. I’m pissed right now.”
“But—”
He sat up again, brows lowered. “No.”
“But you’ll like my but.” I leaned toward him and nipped his chin. That got him to ease up, and his muscles relaxed.
“I already like your butt.” His hand slid down the small of my back to my ass and squeezed. It was playful, but I could still see the darkness in his eyes, and his face was hard.
“Sculpt. My but is important.”
“Yeah Eme, it is.” I slapped him on the shoulder, and I was glad when he laughed. “Okay what’s your but?”
“I was going to say, but . . .” His brows rose. “Before you go, I want you to make love to me.” I paused, seeing his brows rise with surprise, then I pushed on quickly before I lost my nerve. “Like now, Sculpt. Right now. Here in this spot where we always hang out together. Our place. You with your guitar, and me with the horses.”
His hands that were slowly roaming stopped, squeezing my upper thighs, and he stared at me with such intensity that I was getting hot just watching him watch me. “That’s your but?”
I nodded.
“I knew I liked your butt.” He put his hands on either side of my face and met my eyes. “If you’re in my bed . . . you’re not in anyone else’s. You got that, Mouse? Even if I can’t convince you in the next week to come with me—no one else’s.”
“Okay. Same goes for you.” Surrounded by women night after night would be a lot harder for him than for me.
Sculpt stroked the side of my face. “Emily. You erase the bad in my life.”
I couldn’t imagine Sculpt having any bad. He was hot, had an incredible voice, had a body that was no doubt in the dictionary under the definition for muscle.
He may not laugh often, but when he did it was magical and made up for all the other times he didn’t. I sensed the hardness in him, the untouchable part that he refused to let me discover, but we’d only known one another for a couple months.
His thumb caressed my lips, and the ache between my legs intensified. My stomach wasn’t just pretty little butterflies; it was a flock of Egrets taking flight.
He picked me up and set me on the grass beside him then got on his knees in front of me. He tilted forward, and I leaned back until I was resting in the grass, and he was hovering above.
My nerves were sparking off in every direction while the twinge between my legs became a spasm of aching need. I was breathing so fast that it was like I’d run a marathon.
“Have you ever been touched, Emily?”
I shook my head, too breathless to respond verbally.
“If you’re not ready . . . tell me now. Be damn sure about this, Eme.”
He was dead serious, and it sent a strange thrill through me. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted him here and now with the wind against my skin, being in my favorite place in the world with Sculpt. “I don’t want to wait.”
His hand swept into my hair and weaved through the strands. His fingers tightened, and he pulled back, and my breath hitched. “I’m tasting your pussy. Then Emily, I’m going to fuck you until you scream. Does that make you nervous? Because you’re trembling all over.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Yeah, nervous? Or yeah you’re going to scream when I sink inside of you for the first time?”
“Yeah, to all of it.” I’d wanted Sculpt since the night I met him. Needed him. It was like I had been living with anticipation for this moment my entire life. It scared the hell out me. What if I sucked at it? What if we were incompatible? What if it was awkward?
“I want you screaming and quivering. And baby, you should be nervous . . . because I plan on changing your mind and having you begging me to take you on tour.” The corners of his lips twitched, and my insides lit up. I couldn’t help but think about what he could do to me, how I’d say goodbye when it was time for him to leave. “You’re Lego building, Emily. Rethinking your decision?”
I jerked and met his eyes. There it was—his eyes dancing with laughter and desire, a sexy combination that had me tightening my grip on his biceps.
He didn’t wait for my reply. “Too late, Mouse. You’re mine.”
He tilted his head like he always did before he kissed me, and claimed my lips. And he did claim, devour, and feed the hunger we both felt between us. Heat flowed over my skin as if the afternoon sun was beaming down on it. Little sparks tap-danced shivers through my body. There was no hesitation in what he was taking, what he wanted, and I fell into his kiss like melted butter.
His hands stroked up my sides then down again. “God, these curves.”
He groaned, and the vibration sent my heart rate spiking. My hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, harder. God, I needed him. It was like I was breathing for this man. It wasn’t normal. Was this normal? Did it matter?
“Sculpt.”
He took my hands and placed them above my head, locking them down with his own. “Logan. Call me Logan, Eme.”
Oh God. His name. He told me his real name. “Logan,” I said and heard him groan.
“Again.”
“Logan.”
His lips trailed succulent kisses down my throat, his teeth nipping, then his tongue licking to take away the bite. “I want you to call me that whenever we’re alone, Emily. Call me Logan.”