Something about her words, the surety in them and the quality of her voice, sends them from my ears and straight to my dick. I shift on the bench and the metal pops beneath us. Louder than anything else.
Answering phones, writing emails, working my ass off on remedial tasks, delivering coffee, lunch, and sometimes dinner all seems a little more worth it. Because each small task got me to here: earning her approval and acceptance.
I’ve never been this close to her before. The air around her is electric. The scent of her is overwhelming. But not so overwhelming that it distracts me from the fact that her eyes flicker to my mouth, again and again. Not so overwhelming that I can’t see the flush on her cheeks, feel the heat of her sitting so close.
I lean forward, in her orbit. “I...”
I can’t remember what I was about to say because all I can think about is how close I am to Corrine Blunt’s body. She has freckles on her nose and they’re endearing and girlish. My fingers ache with the sudden urge to slip down the slope of it, down to her lips. There’s something different about her mouth; there’s no color to her lips for practice, no deep wine red or satiny pink. Her lips are dark rose, no embellishment but a light sheen. They look soft.
“I...” I start again but still, I’ve got nothing because what I really want to say is:I’m reading this wrong, right?Because I think I might want to kiss Corrine right now. And Ithinkshe might want me to kiss her, too.
So, I cup her elbow, the silk of her skin soft in my palm. Soft like I imagine the rest of her skin might be. “I’m sorry,” I say, studying her rose-pink mouth.
Her lips form the wordwhy.
“Because... I’m going to kiss you now.”
I close the few inches between us and lean down. Whatever is about to happen I don’t think I can stop it. I don’t think I want to. Her eyes flicker shut, her mouth looks delectable.
Like her lips are waiting. For me. But when I feel her breath on my own, I chicken out.
My mouth moves down the column of her throat to the juncture of her neck and shoulder and I place a single, open-mouthed kiss there. She releases this sound, like surprise—like relief—and it echoes through me, through my chest, all the way down to my toes. Because it sounds so much like how I feel right now.
Very surprised but also relieved at how surprised I feel.
Her skin is so soft but my heart is beating so hard. I’ve never had this kind of physical reaction to kissing a woman’s neck before. I feel high, like I might float away and the only thing keeping me on the earth are my hands wrapped around her elbows and her hands, clenched on my forearms. Every point that her body touches mine is hot. Hotter than this autumn evening, or an oven, or the sun.
I want to burn up underneath her hands.
I kiss her again, a bit higher up where her pulse pounds against my tongue, loose strands of her hair tickling my face. I moan at the taste of her, salt and heat and sweet coconut.
Our bodies are electric, magnetized. Her hands slide up my arms to my biceps, pulling me into her in an iron grip. My lips trail over the curve of her jaw; she tilts her chin up for me until finally, my mouth presses against hers, our lips and eyes open. It had never occurred to me before that I could touch this woman, that I would want to. But now that I’m doing it, I never want to stop. Her taste, the sight of her... She’s devastating, in the best way possible.
I touch my tongue gently against hers and her eyes flutter shut again. She tastes goddamn incredible, like cherry-flavored lip balm.
My boss wears cherry-flavored lip balm.
I amkissingmy boss.
I pull back, my eyes wide, my pulse frantic.
My dick is not happy that I have stopped kissing the beautiful woman with the cherry-flavored lip balm. My brain is horrified that I ever started. Corrine watches me, her chest heaving, two shaking fingers against her mouth.
Her mouth closes and the shaking in her hands stops.
My knees could learn something from this woman.
“I am so, so sorry,” I gasp.
She blinks, once, twice, until it seems sheseesme.
She jumps up, her face horrified.
“Oh my,” is all she says.
I want to stand, too, but I don’t. I’m too tall in this already small space and she looks afraid. Maybe of me.
“I... I...” Corrine stutters. That’s my shtick.
