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Perfect Love Story (Love 1) Natasha Madison 2022/8/3 13:48:58

“Oh,” Kimberley says, her eyes blinking a million times. “I didn’t know you two …”

“Hi.” Hailey smiles at her. “We met, right?” She tilts her head, and I know my girl is not playing right now.

“Yeah, when you moved into town. I work for Walker,” Kimberley tells her.

“That’s right. You work for Jensen and Brody.” She grabs her glass of wine.

“I see some friends,” Kimberley says, walking away. Darla snickers. The band tells us they’re going to slow things down and the guitar riff starts.

“Come on, cowboy,” Darla says, “you owe me a dance.” He follows her to the crowded dance floor.

“You want to dance?” I ask Hailey. She grabs my hand and pulls me to the dance floor. I take her in my arms, and even with her heels on, I’m still just a bit taller. Her hand goes around my neck, and one of my hands wrapping around her waist. I look over at Gabe, who is following Crystal outside. He makes sure I see him, waving at us.

“There goes my ride.” Hailey smiles at me.

“Come home with me.” Four words. Four words that hang in the air. Four words that mean so much while she looks down and then up.

“Okay.” She leans in and whispers in my ear, “Only if I get to sleep over.”

We say goodbye to Darla and Brody, walking out. Lost in our own thoughts, we remain quiet on the way to his house. Butterflies fill my stomach, my heart feels like it’s going to explode in my chest, my body aware of every time his hand touches me as he drives. From the way his thumb moves on my thigh to the way he picks up my hand and brings it to his lips.

Parking the car, he looks over at me, and I smile. My hand reaches for the handle to open the door, and I step out of the truck. Jensen walks around the back of the truck to my side. I turn to look at him, but he backs me up against the truck. The cool metal on my back causes me to arch into him a bit. His hands bury in my hair, and he pulls my face to his, his lips on mine, his tongue dancing with mine. The kiss leaves me wanting so much more, aching for him, aching for his touch. We walk with his arm around my neck and my arms wrapped around his waist, and when we reach the front door, he reaches into his pocket to get the keys out. Opening the door, only a dim light glows as we walk across his house to his bedroom. A bedroom I’ve been in about a hundred times now, but knowing what is to come makes my palms start to sweat.

He stops us when we get to the doorway of his room and turns me toward him. He leans in and kisses my bare shoulder, the prickle of his beard making me shiver. “There is no pressure; there is no rush,” he tells me, trailing kisses from my shoulder to my neck. “It’s just me and you.” He kisses up my neck. My palms lie flat against his chest, and I feel his heart beating almost as fast as mine. “I want you,” he whispers as his tongue trails up and down my neck, “but at any time.” He sucks a bit, and I arch my back into his touch. He stops kissing me and looks at me, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. “We go at your pace,” he says, looking into my eyes. “I don—” My hand stops him from talking.

“Nothing in this world can stop this from happening. There is nothing in this world I want more than to be with you”—I inhale—“completely with you.” I move closer to him, our chests connected, the heat from both of us seeping into each other. I wrap my hands around his neck, giving myself a little bit more courage, our hearts beat against each other, his hands on my hips. “So are you going to kiss me or not?” I smile as the words come out, but then his lips crash into mine. His hands grab my ass, pulling me to him. Turning me, he backs me into his room until the back of my legs hit the bed, our mouths never leaving each other. My hands roam down the front of his chest to the hem of his shirt. I pull his shirt up, my fingertips working their way up his six-pack. He trails kisses from my face to my neck, then back up to my ear. The sting from his beard makes one of my shoulders rise up, my hands now pushing his shirt up, but he pulls away from me. Reaching his hand back, he rips his shirt over his head and stands in front of me. I reach for the hem of my shirt, but he pushes my hands away.