“Fake kiss.”
And all I can think isyes, please, and now.
“Don’t make it fake,” I say.
Ford lifts a hand, reaches for my face, and cups my cheek. He strokes his thumb along my jawline, and I gasp—a staggered breath that gives away every ounce of my unchecked lust.
His dimple flashes, but it disappears quickly as he studies my face like he’s memorizing me.
He’s focused, deliberate, every slow, tantalizing sweep of his thumb drawing me closer to the edge. Then he coasts it down to my chin. Holds me in place.
“Your lips…drive me fucking wild,” he rasps.
I part them. For him.
And he shows me exactly how wild when he covers my mouth with his and kisses me fiercely.
His lips claim mine in some kind of proof of his statement. It’s hard, hot, and full of tension. There’s no prelude. No testing brush of lips. We’ve gone from zero to sixty in less than three seconds. I’d better buckle up since we’re hurtling along this racetrack of a kiss.
And it’s a thrilling ride.
He grips my jaw tighter, threads his other hand into my hair, and jerks me closer, tugging my chest against his, yanking my body flush to his.
So it’s that type of kiss. Ford Devon kisses with hisentire body. He dives straight in with a hot, deep kiss and a full-on grind, and I am here for it.
For the hard ridge of him, insistent against my waist.
For the spark in my chest.
For the sizzle across my skin.
His tongue tangles with mine, and his sounds do too—his hungry, greedy groans. They match my whimpers and sighs.
And right when everything feels like we’re on a collision course for the bedroom, he taps the brakes.
Slows down.
Runs his thumb along my cheekbone as he coasts his lips across mine. A sensual slide of his mouth now, a downshift into a different rhythm.
The change makes me hotter.
My mind blurs.
My body turns molten.
And Ford feels like…an inevitability as he spins me around, pressing my back against the door, then kissing the corner of my lips.
A prolonged sigh falls from his mouth. “Better,” he rasps out.
“Better?”
“You taste better than I’d imagined,” he murmurs, then groans, pressing another soft kiss to my lips. “But I’d better test that theory.”
Excitement flares through my body. How he wants to test it, I don’t know. But I’m up for it.
“You really should,” I say, as he tugs at the collar of my shirt, exposing more of my flesh.
He inches back, looks me in the eyes, and traces his fingers along the freckles on my collarbone. “I’m a little obsessed with these,” he admits.
