Southern Heart by Madison, Natasha (best fiction novels .txt) 📕

"Do you want ice cream with your apple pie?" she asks, and I get up and walk to her as she cuts the apple pie. She places a piece on the only plate on the counter.

"Are you not having any?" I ask, my mouth watering even though I’m stuffed. She shakes her head. "We can share,” I say, and she gets the ice cream, digging one scoop out and placing it on top of the hot pie.

We stand in the middle of her kitchen at the counter, and she walks over and gets two spoons. "You go first," she says, and I cut into it, the ice cream melting into the piece. I take the piece and put it on my tongue, and the heat from the pie with the cool of the ice cream makes me close my eyes.

"If you ever think about another career,” I say, taking another spoonful and now holding it up for her to taste. "You should think about becoming a chef."

She laughs, taking the apple pie from my spoon, and I pull it out too fast and a drop of ice cream remains on the corner of her mouth. I bend down to catch the drop with my tongue. She wraps her arms around my neck as my tongue slips into her mouth.

Dropping the spoon on the counter, I thread my fingers into her hair, pulling her even closer to me. We get lost in the kiss. Her hands going from my neck to my face, making sure the kiss doesn’t stop. Her chest molds to mine, and I want to pick her up and carry her over to the couch. I want to lie with her and get lost in all the kisses she’ll give me.

"Chelsea," I whisper and look at her as her eyes flutter open. The blue is now just a touch darker. Our chests rise and fall in unison. "I have never wanted anything in this world the way I want you," I admit. "Nothing and no one."

"Good." She smiles. "The feeling is mutual." I look down now, knowing that’s all we can have. But I also know that I’ve never let myself have what I want in my whole life. "You should get to bed," she says to me as if she senses my turmoil.

"I think that is a good idea,” I say, and neither of us moves.

"What do you want, Mayson?" she asks. "What do you really really want?"

All the words come to me and all the reasons also. But what comes out next shocks us both. "You." Her breath hitches as my heart hammers in my chest so hard and so loud. I think it’s going to come out of my chest. "I want you."

Chapter 20

Chelsea

I hold my breath as he fights with his inner demons. I can tell in his eyes how conflicted he is. I can also tell he’s never ever put himself first. "What do you want, Mayson?" I ask, knowing that I shouldn’t push him, and I’ve already pushed him out of his comfort zone. "What do you really really want?"

I’m expecting him to push me away, but what he says makes me gasp. "You." His eyes are so unsure. "I want you."

I walk to him, putting my hands on his face and feeling him. "Then have me," I whisper. His arms fly around my waist, and he moves his hand into my hair. His tongue slips into my mouth, and I get lost in him.

"I want," he says as he trails the kisses from my lips to my chin. "I want to pick you up and carry you to the couch."

"How about," I say, my eyes are still closed as he kisses me, "we walk over to the couch?” I turn in his arms and slip my hand in his as I drag him to the couch, sitting down and pulling him next to me. "I know you are almost healed, but I don’t want to hurt you,” I say, and he pulls me to him.

"You won’t hurt me," he says, his voice gruff as he buries his hand in my hair and kisses me again. We kiss until we are both breathless. "We should get to bed," he says, and I lean in, kissing his neck. He gets up now and holds out his hand to me. I slip my hand in his and turn to walk over to the hallway. "Good night, Chelsea," he says, leaning down and kissing my lips. "Sweet dreams."

Turning, I walk to my bedroom, and I miss him. I wish he would have followed me to my room. I slip into bed and look toward the hallway. The minutes turn into over two hours, and I finally get up to make myself some tea. I try not to make noise, but when I walk out of my bedroom, I find him lying on the couch, looking out the window at the stars. "What are you doing here?" I ask, and he looks over at me.

"I couldn’t sleep," he says. "So I thought I would look at the stars and try to see the beauty in them." My heart speeds up in my chest, and my stomach flutters.

I smile, walking over to the couch. "And?"

"The only thing I could think of was you." He reaches up and grabs my hand, pulling me down to him. I try not to squish him. "Lie with me," he says, and I don’t answer him because I can’t. The lump in my throat threatens to come out like a sob, and he might freak out. Instead, I lie on the couch with my back to his chest as he wraps his arms around me. We don’t say anything as we both look at the stars, and it takes me less than ten minutes to finally fall asleep.

My eyes flutter open when I feel him move behind