Page 68 of Small Town Boy

Clue.

Bronwyn’s favorite movie is Clue.

I fight back the laughter that wants to burst out of me. That is not the correct reaction. Especially after she said it was obscure. Not after the incredible evening we’ve had being together, firming up our status in each other’s lives.

She has no way of knowing that Clue—both the movie and the game—hold so much meaning in my life. That twelve hours ago I was fighting with my friends over the use of secret passages. That my twin brother’s favorite joke to make is about him in the library with Miss Scarlet and the rope. Something I can’t tell her. At least not yet. Maybe someday.

Just like I can’t tell her those three words that are hovering at the very tip of my tongue, waiting to spill out. We danced around it tonight, the both of us. Saying so much, leaving so much left unsaid. Which, right now, is fine. The time is coming; I know it is. I can feel it.

After tonight, I know she’s feeling it too.

“Eighties movies are a Keller family staple. So no, not obscure at all. You fit right in.”

Bronwyn perks up. “Really?”

“My favorites are Ghostbusters and Fletch.”

“OMG! I’ve always wanted to go someplace and tell the waiter to put the bill on the Underhill’s tab. But I always chicken out, because I’m positive no one will get the reference.”

“We tried it once as kids. Our server was not amused. Dad, on the other hand…”

Bronwyn claps a hand over her mouth, but it doesn’t matter; I can still see her beautiful smile, her laughter slipping out the sides. My insides light up, everything about this woman making me happy. Everything about her simply fits.

Holding her like this, curled up next to me, thinking about that F word—not the dirty one, that other one. Although maybe the dirty one too—I can’t help but let this happiness ooze out of me. Bronwyn blindsided me. There is no denying that. There is also no denying that she has me wrapped around her little finger, and there is nowhere else I’d rather be.

“You surprise me, Noel Keller,” she whispers, laying her head against me and snuggling in. “And I love everything about it.”

I tighten my arm around her, wanting her as close as possible. She still seems too far away though.

“That makes two of us.”

I click on the TV, scrolling through the movie app to find the one we want. The opening credits appear on the screen, Bronwyn humming along with the music, and all I can think is how perfect this moment is. How perfect this night has been. One of my favorite meals, with a woman I can’t get enough of, and a cult classic movie. Others might disagree, but I’m convinced I have found paradise. Right here, just like this.

Even more so when a little while later, Bronwyn’s hand slides into my lap, landing on the semi I’ve been sporting ever since our make-out session. No, that’s a lie. I’ve been hard since the moment she walked through the door, looking good enough to eat in her leggings and extra-long sweater. All those kisses earlier had just upped the ante.

But I’m a gentleman. One who can behave himself, despite the fact that the arm I have wrapped around her is mere inches from her breast, and my fingers are aching to toy with her nipples. To see just how wet I can make her. Taunting, teasing her until she can’t stand it. Until she’s so wet that the only option is for me to clean her up with my tongue, giving me the chance to devour that incredible pussy of hers.

My dick twitches at the thought, the memory of her taste on my tongue making my mouth water. Wanting her this bad is dangerous. Because I need her to know that I don’t just want her. I appreciate her and everything she is—her sharp mind and resilient spirit. That I value her and what she brings to my life.

I also want her. Really fucking bad.

Bronwyn shifts, her head moving from the top of my shoulder to the front, hand gliding up and down my bulge. I try to hold back a groan, but when she wraps her fingers around the outline, grabbing hold as much as she can through my jeans, I can’t stop myself. I throw my head back, hips lurching forward into her hand. Then I hear her giggle.

“You’re playing with fire there, Honey…” I warn her through gritted teeth.

“Am I now?”

She gives me a squeeze, looking up at me. There’s mischief in those honey-colored eyes of hers, and that’s all it takes. Game on.

Because if anyone is going to be doing the teasing here, it’s me.

Without another word, I yank Bronwyn on top of me. She yips, sliding into my lap until she’s straddling me. Just how I want her.

I run my hand up her back, dragging my middle finger along her spine, and she shivers. I can see she’s just as turned on as I am, making me even harder. Which I wouldn’t have thought possible, but then again, there are all sorts of things that I never saw coming where this beauty is concerned.

Grabbing the back of her neck, I capture her mouth in a punishing kiss, not showing her any mercy. I adore, value, and respect the fuck out of this woman. She’s also the object of my every desire, and I am going to make sure she fucking knows that.

I continue to kiss her—hard, fast, then slow, then speeding up again—letting each one of Bronwyn’s whimpers fuel me. All her wiggling in my lap, her core rubbing against my erection, only adds gasoline to the flames, but it’s not what I really want. That requires a change of venue.