On Any Given Sundae by Marilyn Brant

Author:Marilyn Brant [Brant, Marilyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Contemporary Romance, Football, Humor, romantic comedy, Summer, small town, desserts, wisconsin, ice cream
Amazon: B0053QI4I6
Publisher: Twelfth Night Books
Published: 2011-05-29T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Elizabeth had racked up plenty of experience with lightheadedness in the past twenty-four hours. A long, thorough kiss with Rob Gabinarri, however, did more than make her feel woozy and unsteady on her feet.

She felt like she could fly clear to Tibet.

This went beyond fantasy. This surpassed any daydreams she’d ever had of Rob during high school, or even this summer. This couldn’t possibly be for real.

“W-What are you d-doing?” she managed to ask him when he let them break for air.

“Last night’s kiss wasn’t a good idea. You were drunk and I wasn’t. Tonight, babe, we’re both sober and it’s a different story.”

He looked at her all serious and sincere. She squinted at him. What the heck was he saying?

“That kiss really happened yesterday?” she said.

Now he was the one who squinted. “You’ve got me going out of my mind here, Elizabeth. Do you or don’t you remember kissing me last night?”

Oh, God. She hadn’t dreamed it after all.

“I-I-I thought I’d j-just imagined—”

He shook his head and smiled slightly. “Nope.”

Their few moments on her sofa came rushing back to her, as if all she’d needed was the confirmation that she hadn’t been hallucinating to solidify the baffling memory into reality. Oh, heavens. In her dream she’d practically attacked him last night. Only, if it wasn’t a dream then…

She buried her head in the fabric of his shirt. “S-Sorry.”

He pulled her away from her hideout and stared her down. “I’m not. Not about last night and not about now. Not unless—” He paused. “Unless you’d rather be with Ivan.”

She squinted at him. “Who’s Ivan?”

At that, Rob laughed a little and brought his lips to hers again for another long, slow, involving kiss that sent her soaring far away from Wilmington Bay, above the trees, over Lake Michigan, across the country and toward the ocean, while all the time embracing her firmly on their little plot of pavement and keeping her safe on the ground.

“Get a room,” some snotty teen boy in a passing car shouted. Rob didn’t even look up.

But, eventually, the summer heat grew too warm for them, even at nearly midnight, so he tucked her into his car and sped them over to her apartment.

“Show me to thy sofa, woman,” he whispered in her ear.

The heat in his voice made her body ripple with waves of wanting. She did as he asked.

“Where were we yesterday like now?” He tugged off her shoes and laid her down on the cushions. He brought his face up close to hers. He looked at her expectantly. “You’re supposed to kiss me. You’re missing your cue,” he reminded her. “Hurry up.”

Although she’d been kissing him virtually nonstop since they’d left Tutti-Frutti, she obliged. But, oh, there was something about this horizontal position that performed devious stunts on her weak flesh.

Her blood pulsed differently, sending shivers of longing spurting through every vein and artery and bodily extremity.

Her lips tingled with desire for more of him. More firm lips. More hungry tongue. More joining of their two beings.

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