Page 70 of Jonas

The hazy, lazy, cat’s-got-her-cream look vanished before my eyes.

I instantly hated that it was gone.

“Don’t you dare tell me that was a mistake.”

I wasn’t going to but the vehemence in her tone surprised me.

“Even if you think it, don’t say it,” she went on.

“Dee Dee⁠—”

“I couldn’t…that would…I don’t think it was and I can’t handle you thinking it was,” she finished.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” I affirmed. “How it happened, maybe. But the kiss wasn’t.”

“That’s you telling me⁠—”

“Quiet.”

She did as told but the way her eyes narrowed was a clear indication she wasn’t a fan of being silenced. The flash of annoyance was cute. So cute, once again, I was fighting the urge to flip her and fuck her in the mud.

“The location, Dee Dee,” I clarified. “Though, maybe not seeing as that’s the only thing stopping me from taking this further than I suspect you’re ready for.”

Even with my arms banded around her, she managed to wiggle on my lap.

Torture.

Pure fucking torture.

“I don’t know what gave you the impression I’m not ready for more, but you’re wrong.”

Christ.

Those eyes told no lies.

I needed to get up and get control of my dick before I stopped caring we were drenched with filthy, stagnant pond water that didn’t smell all that great. Mud was already drying on her neck and in her hair and I was sure I had similar stains.

“Derrika—”

I didn’t get the rest of that out before, without warning, Derrika started scrambling off my lap. Actually, she wasn’t scrambling as much as she was attempting to jump over me.

“Snake!” she screamed.

Fucking shit.

I was on my feet with Derrika over my shoulder, struggling to keep my feet in the slippery mud while Derrika screeched, “It touched me.”

If I didn’t need all of my concentration to get us to dry land without taking a header, I would’ve laughed at the very obvious disgust in her tone.

Once I had us a good distance away from the bank of the pond, I dipped my shoulder far enough forward that she could slide down to her feet, but not enough that when she made that move I’d lose purchase. I wanted her close and not just because I wanted to make sure she was steady on her wet, muddy sneakers before I let go. The bottom line truth of it was, I wasn’t ready to lose the connection. I wasn’t ready for the outside world to intrude, or for the moment we’d shared to end.

Not yet.

“I take you’re afraid of snakes.”

She looked comically offended I would suggest such a thing even though moments ago she was screaming.

“I’m not afraid of snakes,” she lied. “I’m just not a fan of them slithering their wet, scaly skin on me.”