I love adventure and the outdoors.
This is a total lie, but I wish it wasn’t.
Fearing everything even quasi-adventurous is suffocating. And I don't want to become a shut-in agoraphobe like my mother. But the other reason I wish it wasn't a lie? I said those exact words to my mega-crush, Nash McAllister, Mister Adventure himself.
And now somehow we’ve started dating and he's just as amazing as I imagined. Nash McAllister has brought me to life in more ways than one and I can't lose him.
So I have no choice.
I have to become Miss. Adventure.
Excerpt
Our eyes latch together for a moment before I break the connection and look down to his full lips. By the time I rise onto my toes to reach his mouth with mine, he’s wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. With my hands flat to his solid pecs and my feet hovering just above the ground, he kisses me.
My lids flutter closed, and I’m swept away to a place where there’s nothing but the two of us. No cicadas or birds, no rush of the waterfall, or whisper of wind through the willow branches; there’s nothing but his lips, softly and sweetly, teasing mine to relax and open. Lowering me, he cradles my face, the kiss turning into a demand. When his left hand lowers to squeeze my ass and his right grips the back of my neck possessively, I completely melt into him with a moan.
As he kneads my bottom, my nipples tighten, and I shamelessly flatten my breasts against his chest. When he lifts me again, I wrap my legs around his waist. Walking us backwards, his demanding kisses traveling down my jaw to my neck. I open my eyes as I reach to run my hands through his hair.
Canopied beneath the giant willow, I feel like I’m in a fairytale. And he’s my dirty Prince Charming.
When he finally parts us, my lids are weighted, my nipples diamond hard, and my abdomen heavy with need.
“That was incredible,” I say breathily.
He sets me down on wobbly legs and takes my chin in his hand. “Waited a long time for that.” With a small, soft peck to my well-kissed lips, he adds, “Worth it.”
I nod stupidly, since I’m still in a haze. Taking off his backpack, he sets it on the blanket and tugs me down.
“I wasn’t planning on kissing you today,” he says as we sit cross-legged. He pulls a bottle out of the bag.
“I’m glad you did. It was a perfect first kiss in the perfect place.” I watch his lips curve into a smile as he pours the bubbly liquid into two tin cups. “But why didn’t you want to kiss me today?”
His eyes find mine. “Because you’ve been worth the wait and I don’t want to rush this, or you.”
I’m stunned, so I reach out and touch his knee. “You, too. I mean you’re worth the wait.”
He winks at me, holding out a cup. “Bubbling cider?”
“Yes, please.” I take the cup from his hand, not removing my eyes from his. The intensity between us is palpable. “You know, you may have won the race, but I did get second place.” Lifting my chin to lighten the moment, I add, “Second place is better than third or fourth. In fact, it’s a silver medal at the Olympics, so I reject the title Rotten Egg.”
The intensity in his eyes is replaced by a spark of playfulness. “Second place, huh?” He presses his lips to keep from smiling then hums. Leaning closer, he pushes a chunk of hair back from my face. “I guess you also deserve a prize.”
His lips find mine and he kisses me again, faster, and more passionately. And when he pulls back, I’m lightheaded. “Is there alcohol in this?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Maybe you’re love drunk?” He takes a sip of his cider and I follow his lead. It’s sweet and the effervescent bubbles tickle my nose.
I’m definitely love drunk. For him I might be a love alcoholic.
“That was a nice second prize.”
“It was.” He stretches out his legs, leaning back on his arms.
“But we can’t get the same prize.”
“No?”
“Nope. We need to level you up somehow.” I run my fingers up his thigh. “What do you want?”
His mouth curves into a slow grin, the crooked right side crinkling in a way that tickles my belly as effortlessly as the cider tickles my nose.
“Call me Daddy.” It doesn’t sound like a request, which takes my breath away even more than the heat in his eyes.
“Daddy.” I mean to say the word with sexy confidence, but it comes out breathy and submissive. Setting aside my cup, I climb across the blanket on all fours to straddle his outstretched legs. I fiddle with the button of his flannel shirt, shyly staring at the hair peeking out of the V.
“I really like calling you that.” My eyes rise to his, my heart fluttering like the wings of a dragonfly at the lava-like heat in his stare.