After he lowers his tall frame into the passenger seat, I set his crutch on the floor in the back, then return to the driver’s seat. I hand him one of the coffees and pull out of the parking lot, my heart beating fast just thinking about Sol and me spending quality time together.
We arrived in Boston yesterday. Sol was completely wiped out from the drive and ended up taking pain medication. After ordering a pizza, we decided to stay in and just enjoy each other’s company. Then later, he took my hand and led me into his childhood room, and we climbed in bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep with his body curved against my back and his arm on my waist holding me close.
Now, sitting across from him at the kitchen table, I watch the way he toys with his watch, his brows drawn together. His gaze is fixed on his coffee on the table, his mind clearly elsewhere. He’s been distracted since he walked into the room.
I set my coffee down. “You okay?” I ask, covering Sol’s hand with mine to catch his attention.
He blinks twice, refocusing. “What?”
Standing, I round the table. As if he can read my mind, he pushes his chair back and shifts his body to face me.
Lifting the hem of my skirt, I throw my leg across his lap, straddling him, careful not to put too much weight on his right leg. His hands grasp my knees before slowly moving up, up, up until they stop on either side of my thighs, so close to the edge of my underwear. He tugs me closer until I can feel his hardening length pressing between my thighs. A shiver rolls down my spine at the contact as Sol exhales as if he’s been waiting for this moment to breathe. This almost-there connection between us.
“What’s going on inside this gorgeous head of yours, Sol?”
His tongue sneaks out to brush over his bottom lip before lifting a hand and tugging the blue baseball cap lower on his forehead, hiding his eyes from me.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I say, pushing the cap back up. “You don’t get to hide from me.”
“Sorry. Habit,” he murmurs, removing the cap and tossing it on the table before locking his gaze with mine. God, I will never tire of looking into those beautiful blue eyes, now filled with something akin to uncertainty.
Sweeping back the locks of tousled hair falling over his forehead, I say, “You seem miles away. Want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing.” His expression turns gentle as he lifts a hand and threads his fingers into my hair. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Do you know your eyes turn really dark blue when you are worried?”
“They do?”
“And when you’re aroused too.” I shoot him a smirk. “But that’s not the point.”
His brows shoot up in surprise before the look fades. He flashes me a big grin, slanting his mouth toward mine, and murmurs, “That’s hot.”
“What’s hot?”
His lips brush against mine, and when his tongue teases the seam of my mouth, I groan as heat pools between my legs. “That you’ve noticed all that. It’s fucking hot.”
“Are you trying to distract me?” I ask.
He pulls back. “What? No. I love kissing you and knowing that this”—he softly nips my lip then licks it, soothing the sting—“beautiful mouth belongs to me.”
I roll my eyes. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere. Seriously, talk to me.”
He swallows before saying, “Would you, um, like to come with me to visit my parents? I know they’d love to meet you . . .” He trails off, his eyes widening slightly. “I mean, if you are comfortable with this. I know it’s weird, me asking you to come with me, and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to—”
“I’d love to meet them,” I say, cutting him off. “I’ll come with you.”
His eyes light up, a hopeful smile curling the corners of his mouth. “Yeah?”
I nod, smiling back.
A wide grin spreads across his face. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, babe. I’d do anything for you.”
“You would?”
“Of course. You think I wouldn’t?”
His gaze holds mine for several seconds before he kisses my forehead and murmurs, “You’re just saying that because I’m a good kisser.” I feel his smile on my skin.
I laugh. “True.” I roll my lips between my teeth, studying him, then say, “One of these days, I’ll prove to you how much I love you, Solomon Callan.”
His grip on my thighs tightens, and he circles his hips, causing me to gasp as his hard length rubs against my center, causing delightful friction.
“You don’t have to prove you love me, Gracie. I see it when you look at me; I feel it in your touch.” One of his hands slides to the small of my back, pressing firmly. “You and me, we are fire. Nothing will ever take that away from us,” he says, his voice low and intense. His words wrap around me securely.
“Sol,” I whisper through the tears forming in my throat. “You know you’re stuck with me, right?”
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush to his body. “That has been my plan all along.” Then his head slants to the side and he kisses me hard on my mouth, as if sealing the deal. I groan, my hands sliding up and sifting through his hair, holding him in place as I open my mouth, letting him in. He growls, his arms tightening around me as if he wants to meld us together. My fingers fist his hair as I circle my hips and push my pelvis down, then forward while pressing into him.
“Fuck,” he hisses into the kiss, then pulls back slightly, panting. “Do that again.”
“Do what?”
“That thing you did with your hips and pull my hair.”
I do, and Sol mutters, “Oh my God,” his head rolling forward.
“Good?”
“So, so good,” he rasps, his forehead pressed to mine. The calloused pads of his fingers slide toward the juncture of my legs, brushing the band of my underwear before shoving the material to the side and sweeping his fingers at my entrance.
His eyes widen slightly, and he whispers in awe, “So wet.”
“You seem surprised.”
He nods. “Sometimes, I can’t believe I have this effect on you.”
“Better believe it. One look from you—” I shake my head, smiling. “It’s like there’s this button, and only you know where it’s located in my body. One look from you, and I’m vibrating with need. And when you touch me, even if it’s unintentional, I swear my whole body turns into chaos, and only you have the power to put me back together.”
He bites that bottom lip, and I groan under my breath. I love it when he does that. “Does that scare you?”
“The chaos?”
He shakes his head. “Me having that kind of power over you?”
“Should I be scared?”
“Gracie.” He opens his mouth to speak, then snaps it shut. His gaze roams my face, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Then his eyes fall shut, and he takes in a deep breath.
“What is it?” I ask, almost begging him to open his eyes and look at me. What is he thinking? Have I scared him? “What are you thinking, Sol?”