Because I grab onto a fistful of hair and pull him toward me.
He throws me a megawatt smile, flashing his sunburst hazel eyes. And it’s over for me.
He mutters something I can’t make out right before we kiss, but I don’t have the capacity to figure it out because he lets out a groan when our lips meet and I lose all sense of control.
I open my mouth and invite him in, and he doesn’t waste a second. It’s all teeth and tongues and hands everywhere.
It’s three weeks of fucking with each other.
It’s the memory of that night from eleven years ago.
It’s how he feels right now.
Waves of want flood my body. And finally, I get to have him.
Xander’s hands that have been roaming up and down my back cup my face as he presses his entire body into me.
“Ashleigh.” Xander moans my name in my mouth before his tongue finds mine again. He tastes like candy. He feels so needy. He smells so fresh. Like brand-new.
And yet, when he bites my bottom lip—a move he did eleven years ago that had me mauling him for more—and a groan escapes me, I know the history we have is guiding us.
Old and new. An elite combination for getting off.
One of his hands finds my back and pulls me flush against his body. He’s fucking hard already. The pressure of him straining against my stomach feels delicious. He finally breaks contact with my mouth to scrape his teeth along my jawline to my ear.
“Look what you do to me,” Xander says, voice hoarse in my ear. The hot air from his breath travels the length of my body, from my ear to the pulsing between my thighs. The admission that he’s on the verge of losing it from a kiss makes me ache for him.
“You already know what you do to me,” I say back, as he sucks on the sweet spot between my neck and collarbone. There’s going to be a mark there later. But right now, my remark is enough for Xander to reach his hand up underneath my T-shirt, his warm hands splaying across my back, holding me in place as he walks us backward, toward my bedroom.
Then his mouth is back on mine, and I tilt my head to give him full access. It sends him wild as he pushes me up against wall and devours my mouth.
With my back anchored in place by the wall behind me, his hands return to roaming my entire body. Mapping it like a treasure. He starts making his way up my stomach, his fingers now flirting with the lace of my bra.
Just when I think he’s about to abandon my bra and I’m about to chastise him for being a tease, he reaches the hem of my T-shirt and pulls it up.
The rich cotton of the UCLA LAW T-shirt I’ve been wearing since yesterday lands softly on the floor.
Xander leans back to drink me in. My checkered cotton shorts. My black lace bra.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his thumb rubbing my already swollen lip before he brushes the hair out of my face.
“You are,” I say, and that’s enough to end our mutual admiration because his lips are back on me. This time, he goes straight for my neck and starts trailing wet kisses to my collarbone.
His hands make their way to my back, expertly working the bra clasp. He hooks his fingers under the straps and slides them down my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their place.
I watch as his eyes roam every inch of my exposed skin, unwilling to settle for just a piece of me. When he looks up at me through the curls, with his eyes dark and wide and a slight half smile on his lips, he says, “Even better than I remembered.”
And with those words, I feel my temperature rising.
My bra now discarded on the floor along with my T-shirt, Xander wastes no time with his thumb and finger working one of my nipples while his tongue licks and sucks and bites the other one.
I moan as the sensation explodes throughout my body.
My hands fling to his hair, twisting and pulling, his curls the perfect length to tug and pull at. My back bows off the wall, riding the fine line between pleasure and pain.
“So perfect,” he mutters, breaking contact before taking my nipple into his mouth again.
I am so fucking wet.
