Not the Rebound Guy by Abby Knox (popular books of all time .txt) 📗

forehead with the back of my gloved hand; sweat is pouring off me.

“Relax, mister,” she says. “That was too easy. Hoes. Berries. Zucchinis. Bees. Nature seems to want people to make immature sex jokes.”

I almost forget to remove my gloves before scraping my fingers across my scalp. “Who’s joking?” I ask.

She sucks in a breath and color floods her shoulders and collarbones. I don’t know if it’s the heat from the sun heating her up, but all I want to do is squeeze out all the juice from these strawberries on that tender, bare skin, and then suck it all off. “Um,” she stammers.

“I’m pretty sure that kiss was no joke,” I continue, my eyes traveling down to the gingham that frames her breasts. My mouth waters as my filthy mind conjure up the image of me dripping my honey between those sweet melons, burying my face in there and eating it up.

Eliza catches me ogling and says, “Eyes up here.”

“Happily,” I say, meeting her gaze again, noticing the sparkle in her eyes. “You need to stay until August at least. Hate to miss an opportunity for some cantaloupe metaphors.”

“August? That sounds like a lot more commitment than just a rebound thing,” she says, her voice soft and husky.

I take a step closer, my exposed front brushing up against the cotton of her ultra-feminine top. Her nostrils flare. “Miss Eliza, I have it on good authority that there’s no better way to mend a broken heart than gardening.”

Her teasing, skeptical gaze could destroy me. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” I say. “It’s all this sunshine. I think it’s working already. Sunshine, strawberries, and a good kiss, if I do say so myself.”

Eliza inhales deeply and exhales slowly through pursed lips, her gaze falling to my mouth, my shoulders. My exposed skin wants to be smashed against hers; wants her to nibble on me.

“It was a nice kiss,” she says, a little breathier.

“Nice?” I ask. “Not sweep-you-off-your-feet-Prince-Charming kind of kiss?”

She’s choosing her words carefully, which I appreciate. While she thinks about what to say, the tip of her pink tongue slips out and wets her lips.

“I’ve had Prince Charming, and he’s a dud. And a cheater. Doesn’t feel good to get cheated on by a dud and a cheater. Makes you tell yourself unpleasant stories. No, that kiss left a mark.”

My stomach falls into my boots. “Oh shit. Did I leave a bruise? I wanted to kiss you harder than that; I thought I was holding back, but—“

Eliza blinks several times and reaches out to steady herself on my forearm. The heat of her gripping fingers sends chill bumps across my skin. “No, not a literal mark. I mean, I could still feel it when you were gone.”

I feel dumb. “W-wow,” I stammer, looking up at the sky and see the notes in the clouds. “That…that gives me another idea for a song.”

“Another?”

Cringing at my own cheesiness, I explain, “I shouldn’t have said that. But the truth is, I was up really late composing a song after you went to bed. You seem to put ideas in my head.”

Eliza shifts her weight, and her rubber boot makes a squishy sucking noise in the mud. “Oh my gosh, I sound like a jerk. Keeping you awake all night.”

I reach out and play with a strand of her hair that has escaped from under her straw hat. “The opposite of that. I enjoyed staying awake with you in my head.”

She chews the inside of her lip like she’s, once again, deciding whether to tell me something. “You were in my dream last night.”

“Thank god,” I say, chuckling. “Because if there was anybody else making you moan like that, he and I are gonna have words.”

Her eyes widen, and her hands cover her mouth.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s a completely natural response to spending an evening in the company of someone you find attractive. And you did say I was pretty…”

“You heard me!?” Her cheeks blaze a deeper red, and she squeezes her eyes shut like she wants to block out me and her dream memories. She takes a step back.

“I did,” I say, closing the distance between us again. “And that was hot as heck.”

“Oh my god. Can we pretend that didn’t happen?”

“If that’s what you want. But just so you know, you don’t have to hold back. If you ever go to bed horny, just remember I’m right down the hallway.”

She backs away again. “On my grandmother’s porch!”

“But you have a bed,” I correct her.

“In my grandmother’s house! I can’t have sex right down the hall from my sleeping grandmother.”

I lift one shoulder, enjoying watching her cheeks go from scarlet to nearly purple. “Well, I guess we can always go camping in the meadow.”

Her eyes widen even bigger than before, and she gasps.

“What?”

I hear nothing but the squelch of her boots in the mud as she comes back to me, a bewildered expression as she blinks several times, her eyes flicking from my eyes to my mouth. She angles up to me slowly, hesitantly; I assume she’s thinking I’m going to let her kiss me gently. Leaning down to meet her, I wait for it, the velvet of her lips against mine. Her strawberry kiss is beyond soft; her lips are beyond supple. She feels like heaven. Before she can pull away, my arms are wrapped around her, clamped onto her hips, and I’m kissing her back. I deliver a deeper pressure, a commanding kiss, so she knows that this morning’s kiss was not a fluke and that this is more than a flirtation.

I don’t half-ass my kisses, and I don’t half-ass the relationships I maintain. I am in, or I am out. With Eliza, I am definitely one hundred percent in.

I keep hold of her but let her pull away just before my tongue slides into her mouth. Instead, I sneak a quick lick across her bottom lip, the juicy, sticky nectar easing across my senses.

When she pulls away, she covers her lips.

“Too much?”

She