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“All my leftovers are. Lucy’s a chef as well. Well, she’s more a baker, but she can make anything Harper can.” She shrugged, looking at his chest as he watched the food in the microwave.
“I might have to take all my meals over here.” He looked down at her.
“Just don’t destroy my house.” Breathing was getting hard with him so close.
“I promise not to touch anything in your house, Agatha.” He slid her hair behind her ears with his fingers, caressing the backs of her ears and making Agatha’s breath catch. Her eyes snapped up to his.
“Good.” It was all she could force out of her mouth. He was so close, and now he was touching her.
Knowing he was going to kiss her, it should have been automatic for Agatha to stop him. But watching his lips lower to hers, she found she wanted the contact so bad she pushed up on her tiptoes to meet him. His hands were cupping her face as their lips met gently at first. Delicate, soft, and warm.
His hands tilted her face, and she felt his wet tongue run along the seam of her mouth. She wanted to let him in even if she knew it had turned out badly in the past, but she wanted so badly to taste him again. It had been so long.
Her hands had slid up his chest when the microwave buzzer went off. He paused and looked up at it, dismissing the food and went back to kissing her. Agatha pulled him as close to her as she could. She needed him to surround her.
Pulling his mouth from hers, he trailed kisses to her ear, making her shiver at the memory of him doing it before and knowing what was going to happen—wanting what was going to happen.
Running his hands down her body, he cupped her butt and lifted her onto the countertop. Once she was settled, he slipped his hands under the hem of her T-shirt as his lips landed on hers again.
Wrapping her legs around him to pull him closer, she grabbed the material of his shirt and clung to him. His tongue probed her lips for a heartbeat before she let him in. Moaning, she remembered and memorized his taste at the same time.
Her fisted hands dragged the shirt from his body but didn’t want to stop kissing him long enough to take it off. Instead, she bunched the fabric up and ran her fingers over the muscles that she craved, needing to touch him. Her hips ground against his, pressing her need into his obvious desire.
With his hands caressing her breasts, she moaned and arched her back, wishing he'd never stop. His lips trailed a path across her cheek and down her neck, then his hands were gone as he pulled her shirt over her head. Agatha fully approved and followed suit, pulling his shirt off and tossing it on the floor.
Pressing her bare chest to his, she sought his lips again. Her tongue probed the corners of his mouth, and her hands found his hair. One of his hands was splayed across her back, and the other had slipped into her sweatpants and was kneading her bare ass. No longer was she sitting on the counter. Her entire being was wrapped around him, unable to get close enough.
Dragging her lips from his, she sucked in a breath, filling her lungs with him. Somewhere deep in her mind, something was telling her to get away from him, that this wouldn’t end well. It never did with Chris.
“Agatha.” His lips instantly he found that sensitive spot on her neck that cleared her mind of anything but him.
“Chris, I need you.” She didn’t recognize the voice or the words but knew they were all from her.
Maybe she would regret it all later. But for now, she was exactly where she had spent her lifetime dreaming about: being the person Chris Lowell wanted. Even for just a moment. Again.
