Kelsey felt a rush of pleasure at the small but intimate show of affection. This last week, there’d been little time for anything between them beyond a few quick and delicious make-out sessions. This was partially because their days were filled with nonstop work, and partially because the house had become a bustling hub for various volunteer projects—the canine ones led by Kurt, and the maintenance ones by William Crawford—and they’d had very little privacy.
While Kurt had said he intended to take it slow after what had happened, Kelsey’s confidence sometimes wavered about this being the reason he walked her to her car every night after everyone was gone and the work was done, rather than up to his room. It had helped when last weekend, after he’d walked her to her car and they’d shared a heated kiss, he’d mumbled something about two more weeks. Two weeks that coincided perfectly with Megan’s wedding reception. Maybe Kelsey wasn’t the only one who was hopeful it might be the landmark night it had the potential to be. She’d told Kurt about the room she’d accepted at the bed-and-breakfast, and he’d insisted she keep it, promising he’d get Rob to fill in for him here.
“I’m finally canning those pears so I can bring a few jars to Ida tonight,” she replied. “Only watch your step. I made quite the mess. I was ladling out some of the syrup because the pot was so full, and I spilled some. The floor’s still sticky in front of the stove. I’ll mop when I’m done.” She opened the handles of the paper bag she’d filled with pear rinds and held it out to show him. “I don’t really know anything about composting, but I thought I’d put these out behind that garden you’re trying to revive.”
His gaze flicked from the sagging-it-was-so-full bag to her happy grin before his toasty-warm brown eyes locked on hers.
Kelsey’s phone timer chirped from the back pocket of her pants, alerting her that the pears should be finished boiling. There was something about Kurt’s reaction, however, that momentarily froze her in place. The lightness in his stance had disappeared, and his smile had all but vanished.
“Did I say something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No, you never do.” He slipped the bulky bag from her fingers and set it on the counter.
She knew he was going to kiss her before one of his hands closed behind her neck and he pulled her in to him. It was a zero-to-sixty kiss, not sweet, not slow, not timid. She was pressed against the sink as his body ground against her.
She didn’t know what had caused Kurt’s sudden intensity, but her body responded instinctively. Her blood heated as the ache of desire flamed hot and fresh. It was a hungrier kiss than any she’d experienced.
Piece by piece, the world fell away. The quietly bubbling pot. The sporadic hammer hits coming from the carriage house. The ceaseless grooming and shuffling sounds the dogs made as they rested in their kennels. It was just her and him and a humming in her ears.
He pulled away and pressed the palm of her hand against his mouth, then his lips and tongue trailed down her wrist until her damp shirtsleeve impeded him. “You taste like sugar.”
“It’s the sugar water,” she managed to say. “The pears are done, by the way. I need to turn them off.”
Kurt whirled the dial, and the soft gas flame disappeared. Then his lips were on hers and his hands were loosening the top button on her jeans and sliding them a few inches down her hips. She racked her brain, trying to remember which pair of underwear she’d pulled on this morning. She hoped it was something sexy but suspected she’d gone with comfort instead.
His touch superheated the space between her legs. She felt like a rocket readying for lift off. It became a war of hands, the victor the one to find the most soothing flesh first. His smooth skin and toned core were silk against her fingers, but she was still the first to relent. It was too much to explore and receive at the same time.
His hand moving against her was the single best thing she’d experienced. She tilted her head back and gripped the counter. Her mouth fell open, and she tried not to lose herself in the moans threatening to break out of her throat. Not only would sounds like the ones she wanted to make set the dogs to barking, but the windows were wide open and who knew how far those moans might carry.
He curled close, pressing his forehead against her neck as he matched his breath to hers and continued those perfect strokes. She floated between conscious thought and pleasure so intense it was without form. She’d never climaxed in the presence of a guy. Not with Steve, the only guy she’d gone all the way with. And not with the ones of lesser importance whose names currently escaped her.
Though it hadn’t been for lack of trying.
If she’d had the presence of mind to debate the possibility of doing so in a kitchen in a house filled with kenneled dogs and a pesky cat who was suddenly and persistently rubbing against their calves, her boyfriend’s grandfather and a shelter volunteer not quite a hundred feet away, and a heck of a lot of open windows, she’d have bet against the possibility.
Kurt sensed it was going to happen a second before she did. His free hand pulled her face against his chest, muffling the gasps that escaped with her NASA-worthy liftoff. He didn’t stop his perfect exploration until the swell of pleasure peaked and finally receded.
Kelsey was left numb and shaky, but the blood returned to her head faster than she would have predicted. At some point,
