SPARKS

Chapter Eleven

One kiss turned into another. And then another. And another.

Hazel lost herself in Quade, threading her fingers through his cropped hair, bringing him closer to her body. He pressed her back into the kitchen counter, his hips practically cemented against hers. She felt as he ground his hips against her. His hard arousal pressed against her stomach, and she groaned.

It'd been too long.

Three years. Yeah, way too long.

Hazel reached in between them, somehow making space for her fingers until she reached down to his length. She lightly ran her fingertips over his hard bulge and then with more pressure. He groaned into her mouth, his kissing more urgent now. Harder. More demanding. When he reached in between them, she realized his own hands were shaking. He twined their fingers together, removing her hand from his arousal.

"You keep touching me like that, and I don't think I'll be able to control myself. Been a long time."

"How long?"

He scoffed. "How long do ya think, Hazel? You think I'd sleep with somebody else after meeting you?"

Hazel shrugged, trying not to laugh. "I don't know, Quade. Three years is a long time."

"You're right. It is." Quade squeezed her hand, a wicked glint in his eyes. "So, maybe, there were a few. Just a few, though."

"How many was it, then?" she whispered, egging him on. "I need exact numbers."

He ground his length against her stomach. "Four. . . maybe five. All drunken one-night stands, ya know. Thought about you the whole time. They didn't mean anything."

"Well, as long as they didn't mean anything. . ."

Quade pecked her on the lips. "In all honesty though, I haven't been with anybody since you, sweetheart. Been on quite the three-year dry spell."

"Must've been awful."

"Pure torture."

"How did you manage to survive?"

"You really wanna know?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want an answer, Quade."

Leaning forward, Quade kissed her neck. Bit her earlobe. "Thought about all the things I was gonna do to ya once I finally got back."

"And what did you have planned?"

"Hmm. . .what should I start with? The. . . hot stuff? Or my more innocent fantasies?"

Hazel gulped. "The hot stuff."

"Okay, but you might wanna plug your ears. It's pretty raunchy." Quade licked her ear again, sending a shiver down her back. "I don't know if you'll be able to handle it. Are you sure?"

"Would you just tell me already?" She laughed.

"Okay, but just remember, you asked for it." There was a long pause, and then he whispered, "I thought about taking you out to dinner at this real nice steakhouse that I always go to. I'd dress up real nice, shave, get a sharp hair cut, maybe a little aftershave; and you'd be wearing a sweet little summer dress, showing off those sexy legs of yours, that glowing look on your face. All for me. And then we would talk, and I'd make you laugh and get to see that smile."

"That's it?" she asked, smiling so wide her face hurt. "That's the hottest, dirtiest fantasy you had?"

"Well, it was all the things that came after that dinner that were hot and dirty. But I still want that dinner, Hazel. Let me take you out tomorrow. You and Joe."