Brandon groans and turns his back to me, gripping the back of his neck. “Fuck,” he mutters.
With a newfound confidence, I reach out, prying his fingers from his skin, and turning him to face me. “You’re overthinking it. Stop thinking,” I say, shifting my gaze to his mouth, and I marvel at how perfect it is and how I’ve never noticed.
“Just kiss me,” I whisper.
Chapter 27
BRANDON
Her words hang between us like a live wire, humming with danger and possibility. Tate’s staring up at me, her tousled hair spilling over her shoulders, eyes steady on mine as if she hasn’t just detonated my entire world. My heart is beating so hard it feels like it might punch straight through my ribs, and all I can think is that this can’t mean what it sounds like—except it does.
She wants me to kiss her. Not because she wants me, but because she wants tolearn?to prove she’s not defective.Because she trusts me. And that, somehow, makes it a thousand times worse.
She rises on her toes, hesitating long enough to give me the chance to pull away. But I’m not strong enough. There’s no way I can possibly push her away when she’s all I ever wanted, and when she presses her lips to mine, my world explodes.
I freeze, absorbing this moment—the feel of her heartbeat against mine, the feel of her mouth, hot and soft and perfect against my own. And then all at once, I spring to life, pulling her even closer with one hand on her lower back, the other cupping her jaw and holding her in place.
I can taste the vanilla latte I bought her on her tongue, and something about it makes me feral. Heat sinks into my bones as our kiss goes from tentative to raw and needy in seconds. It’s the kind of kiss I’ve dreamed about for years, the kind that ruins you because nothing?and no one else?can ever compare.
“Brandon,” she whispers against my mouth, and I groan in response, instantly stiffening inside my jeans.
I pull back, and the responding growl that spills from her lips sends me spiraling.
With every ounce of restraint I have, I tighten my grip on her, searching her eyes for signs of doubt or regret, only to find desire. Heat crawls under my skin as she trails a hand up my chest, then tugs me back to her.
Parting her lips with my own, I brush my tongue against hers, and when she releases a soft whimper, all thoughts cease to exist. My heart goes haywire as I nip her lip, tugging on it with my teeth.
I always suspected Tatum and I would be good together. But now I know. I canfeelit in the yearning, desperate, aching,scrapingneed rising inside of me. And if the way she’s kissing me?touching me?is anyindication, she feels it, too.
Her hands slip beneath the soft cotton of my shirt, and I suck in a breath, before lowering my mouth to her neck as I explore every curve of her jaw and inch of her soft skin like a pioneer, discovering new and barren lands.
Gripping her waist, I walk her backward until she’s pressed against the wall beside her desk. Her body arches into me, seeking more contact?more friction?as she impatiently tugs my T-shirt up and over my head, desperate for better access that I’m more than happy to give.
Her eyes drink me in, and I allow her to take her fill, as she runs her fingers across the expanse of hot skin before chasing them with her mouth.
My breathing turns shallow, and I brace my hands against the wall beside her, closing my eyes so tight I see stars.
Once I can’t take any more, I growl for her to, “Give me that mouth,” then slide my hands beneath her?my?hoodie.
The rough slide of my palms glide over smooth, warm skin as the flames of desire blaze through me. “Is this okay?” I ask, brushing the undersides of her breasts with my thumbs.
“Yes,” she breathes, and it’s all the permission I need before I slide my hoodie and the tank top beneath it over her head, leaving her in nothing but a bra and jeans.
My eyes darken as they sweep over her?hungry and raw and desperate?before pulling her back to me and wedging my thigh between her legs. She whimpers, shifting slightly, seeking more contact, so I grip her waist and I guide her movement against me,rolling her hips.
“Fuck,” I whisper into her ear, my voice strained, because I’m hard against her hip, and it reminds me of the day I gave her the massage. Only this is different. It’s no happy accident. She wants me. Even if this started as something among friends, right now, she wants me in a way I’ve always dreamed of; I’m sure of it. And knowing she wants me like this might just be my undoing.
Her hands find the button of my jeans, and I want so desperately for her to take me in her hand, but a little voice inside my head is screaming at me to stop. To take a moment to breathe, to think this through. Because even if Tate wants me right now, it’s not in the same way I want her. She broke up with her boyfriend less than twenty-four hours ago. She’s vulnerable. Reeling and potentially deflecting the way she’s feeling.
And if I take her now, I’m no better than the asshole who took her first while she was wasted.
I pull back just before her fingers dip below the waistband of my boxer briefs.
“Wait,” I choke out, while my body screams at me to keep going.
“I don’t want to wait,” she murmurs, taking a step closer.
I shake my head, putting more distance between us as I take in her mussed hair, her swollen lips, and hooded eyes.
