I’m both elated about that prospect, but also hella nervous. It’s been over a year since I was alone with a guy I liked and things got hot and heavy. But damn, I could use the distraction and I’d be kidding myself if I hadn’t been daydreaming about what it would be like to feel his body against mine.
Wade’s eyebrows tug down in mock seriousness. “Hmmm, fascinating. I hadn’t noticed until you pointed it out.”
“Sure, sure…” I tease.
Without giving him an opening to redirect, I bend in, placing my lips against his. He tastes like a mixture of sweet and savory—a remnant from our lunch, but his intoxicating scent of sandalwood and soap is what melts me.
A rumble moves through his chest and he pushes himself closer, taking my face in his hands. My lips burn from the intensity, yet I can’t help but respond with the same. His tongue sweeps across my lower lip and there’s not a single drop of reservation holding me back. Parting open my mouth, his tongue entwines with mine, bringing a rush of excitement right along with it.
Wade’s hands slowly drop from my face, to my collarbones, resting there for a moment and sending tendrils of desire coursing through my upper body. In a swift movement, he wraps his arms around me, lifting me from my cross-legged position on the window seat and carrying me over to the bed. I let out a squeal of surprise, groping at his shoulders to hang on. His back muscles move underneath his dark t-shirt and all I can think about is how much I want to be skin on skin. My thoughts leave the building entirely as I tug at the fabric, lifting it up, then over his head. He shakes himself out of the shirt and I flick it to the floor. For a brief moment, he stands there between my legs, looking like a Greek God and reflecting the same desire consuming my every cell.
His eyelids blink slowly, opening to half-cover his silver slivers.
“I don’t know how I got so incredibly lucky to find you, Autumn,” he whispers, shaking his head.
I prop up on the backs of my forearms, but he bends in, taking my face in his hands again, his lips crushing down on mine. Dropping back, I pull him to me, straddling him between my legs. I dance my fingertips along his upper back and his torso pulses forward.
My hands make their way from his upper back to his waist. I loop my fingertips into the inner edge of his jeans, running them between the fabric and his skin. He arches up, pulling his body from mine for a moment. His dreamy eyes lock with mine and I take the opportunity to unbutton his jeans.
He inhales sharply, holds the breath for a beat, then exhales slowly. Without a word, he reaches for my top. Lifting it at my waist, he slides his hands inside and pulls the shirt over my head. Before I can make an attempt at anything else, his mouth traces a trail along my collarbones and make their way down my cleavage.
His left hand traces my right side, teasing at the purple lace fabric of my bra. My breath hitches and I arch my back slightly, wishing he’d go there—do what he wants. Consume me.
Suddenly, I’m ripped from the momentum of desire as an insanely loud crash makes us jump apart. Wade stands back, his eyes surveying the room.
“What in the…” I say, clutching at my heart and sitting bolt upright on the bed.
Beside my dresser, the large vase of roses is sprawled across the floor. Shards of glass, pools of water, and bits of blood-red roses are everywhere.
“Shit,” I say, racing to the destruction and trying to collect the broken fragments of glass into one of the larger pieces. “How did this happen?”
“Maybe it was just too close to the edge? Do you have a broom, Autumn?” Wade asks, bringing over the small garbage bin by the door.
“I—I think so,” I say, pulling my hair back so I can see better. “It would be in one of the pantries in the kitchen.”
“Okay, I’ll find it. Be right back,” he says, buttoning up his jeans and walking out of the room shirtless.
Rattled, but starting to calm down, I pick up one of the roses and twirl it in my fingertips. Petals hang from odd angles and some of the leaves are broken and dangling from the stem. Staring at it a moment, I’m mesmerized by its beauty, even knowing now that it will never be the same. I wish I had paid closer attention to where I’d placed the vase. It’s a shame to see something so beautiful wasted before its time.
Suddenly, as if sensing my desire for it to be the way it was, the petals begin to lift and the leaves right themselves. I blink back my surprise and set the rose to the side, stacking each of them together. Perhaps I’ll be able to salvage them and put them in a new vase.
I move on, picking up as much glass as possible. It’s everywhere. Thank goodness the floor is mostly wooden. It should make cleanup a lot easier. When I’ve picked up as much as I can, I take a deep breath and sit down on my haunches.
Things were intense there for a hot minute, but I feel like the moment has unfortunately passed. Standing up, I tug on my shirt and sit back down on the edge of the bed.
Despite the pristine nature of the room, and the damn near identical appearance from when I was a kid, a seam of wallpaper beside the dresser is slightly beveled. Thanks to its age, the wallpaper has clearly seen better days, and it’s finally unhinging itself. Perhaps the added moisture from the vase breaking had something to do with it?
Walking back to the scene, I’m careful not to step in the mess on the floor.
