Page 112 of Her Wicker Guardian

“I absolutely did.” She turns toward the counter, suddenly very interested in anything except looking at me. “Was there a question attached to this information?”

“No. I’m telling you because you asked what else I thought about.” I wait until she looks at me again. “And because I thought about you while I did it.”

That gets her full attention. I take one step closer but leave enough space between us that she can choose what happens next. “Does that bother you?”

Rachel goes quiet. Her cheeks are already pink, but the color deepens, and for one brief second her gaze drops toward my body before she catches herself and looks up at my face. She looks embarrassed by the thought.

She also looks interested.

“No,” she says at last.

I wait.

She exhales through her nose, almost laughs, then adds more softly, “Definitely not.”

Heat begins to swirl low inside me. Rachel notices the change before I say anything, and her gaze drops briefly toward my sweatpants.

“You’re getting hard again.”

“Yes.”

Her lips press together.

“You’re trying not to laugh.”

“A little. Discussing your erections is becoming part of my morning routine.”

“It has happened twice.”

“That’s how routines start.”

I think about that. “Then you should probably get used to it.”

Her eyes widen before she laughs, and I like the sound enough that I move closer, stopping before touching her.

“I also thought about kissing you while I touched myself.”

That changes her breathing.

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

She looks down once toward the front of my borrowed sweatpants and comes back to my face without pretending she did not look. I get harder.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

This time I know what I want when I move toward her. I remember how my hand fit against her waist yesterday, so I place it there again and wait until she looks at me.

Then I kiss her.

Yesterday, the first kiss surprised me so much that part of my attention stayed outside it, trying to understand what was happening. Today I can notice other things: the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath, the way her fingers curl into the front of my shirt almost immediately.

The kiss could end there. Neither of us lets it. I angle my head and kiss her again without stepping away. Rachel’s mouth opens beneath mine, and the change sends heat through my whole body. I follow what she showed me yesterday, touching my tongue to hers and paying attention when she presses closer.

Her fingers tighten in my shirt.