Reckless

Her fingers shift through my hair before she arches up, and I kiss her earnestly. My lips slide across hers, and I yank her closer so I can breathe her in. Breathe in her sweet, warm scent that’s uniquely her.

With the last thread of restraint I possess, I pause. Because I should take care of her first before I get too inspired.

Worry clouds her expression when I pull back, but I dip down to kiss her again.

“Come on.”

I fold her arms through her robe and toss the towel on the floor to sop up some of the water. I’ll deal with that tomorrow.

Tonight, Tori’s my priority.

Threading my fingers through hers, I whisk her back to my bedroom, grateful the kids haven’t budged a muscle since I tucked them in earlier.

With a flick of my wrist, the recessed lights above the walk-in shower cast a warm glow into the dim bathroom.

Turning, I reach for Tori. “Want me to wash your hair?” I run my hand over her damp locks, barely keeping back a shiver when I think of how it looks draped over her body.

Another vulnerable smile tilts her lips, but the look she gives me from beneath her lashes quickens my pulse. “Would you? Wash my hair?”

“Of course,” I say, a prickle of awareness dawning on me that we’re not just un-pausing our relationship tonight. We’re barreling forward at full speed.

But this feels right.

With her eyes locked on mine, that shy smile fades until all I see is want.

She wants me.

And goddamn, I want her.

Everything slows down as she tugs on the thin fabric wrapped around her.

The pink robe slips down her shoulders. Over her full, pert breasts. Across the curves of her hips.

Until it’s resting at her bare feet.

Her wild, dark hair marks a damp path along her olive skin. In another lifetime, she could’ve perched herself on a rock, sung a siren’s song, and men would’ve gladly dashed themselves upon the craggy surface to be near her.

She shifts, and her tresses carve out a map of generous expanses I need to explore before I fucking die of hunger.

“Let me take care of you tonight, baby,” I whisper, brushing my palms over her bare shoulders.

She hesitates. It’s brief, but then she nods, reaching for me.

I love that this girl always goes for it. That although she has moments of shyness, she always takes a chance. Best yet? She doesn’t play games.

The last six years have taught me I hate goddamn games.

Tori’s a lot of things. Young. Beautiful. Feisty. Passionate. But never fickle.

It’s time I met her courage straight on.

When I pull her closer and cover her lips with mine, it’s with the knowledge that she and I are overdue.

And I’m looking forward to getting caught up.