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“Thought you might be thirsty,” she said, holding one out.
He reached for it, but she pulled it back slightly, just out of reach. Her eyes were bright with challenge.
“Jess—”
“You've been avoiding looking at me for the past hour.” She took a step closer, still holding the water bottle hostage. “Why is that?”
Wayne's throat went dry. She was close enough now that he could see the sheen of perspiration on her collarbone, catch the faint scent of her shampoo mixed with the heat of the forge.
“I'm not avoiding anything. I'm working.”
“Uh-huh.” She moved closer still, invading his space deliberately. “So if I do this—” She held the bottle up higher, making him lean toward her to reach it. "You're totally unaffected?"
Their faces were inches apart now. Wayne could feel her breath, see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes, and watch her lips curve into a knowing smile.
“Wayne,” she said softly. Just his name. But it was a question and a challenge and an invitation all at once.
His control snapped.
“I was wrong.” The words came out rough. “Yesterday. I was wrong.”
“About what?” She didn't move away.
“About this. About us.” Wayne's hands were shaking. “I was scared. I'm still scared. But I can't stop thinking about you.”
“Good.” Jess's smile was slow and devastating. “Because I've been thinking about you too.”
She closed the distance between them, and Wayne met her halfway.
This kiss was different from yesterday's. This was intentional. Chosen. Neither of them was pulling away.
Jess's hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. Wayne backed her against the workbench—his workbench this time, solid and scarred and perfect. His hands found her waist, slid under the hem of her tank top to bare skin.
She gasped against his mouth, arching into him.
“Wayne.” His name was half-plea, half-demand. “Don't stop this time.”
“I won't.” He kissed down her neck, felt her pulse jumping beneath his lips. “I promise.”
Her hands were already working at his belt, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Wayne registered what they were about to do.
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “I don't have—”
“I have a condom.” Jess said it matter-of-factly, already reaching for her bag.
Wayne stared at her. She'd come prepared. She'd walked into his barn today knowing this might happen.
“You—”
“What?” She found the condom and turned back to him with that devastating smile. “I’m done playing it safe.”
I'm in so much trouble.
The thought flashed through his mind and then was gone as Jess pulled him back in. Her mouth found his again, urgent and demanding, and Wayne stopped thinking entirely.
He lifted her onto the workbench in one smooth motion, stepping between her legs. The height was perfect. Jess wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and the friction made them both groan.
“Too many clothes,” she managed between kisses.
