The low rasp of his voice vibrated over me. Warm, minty breath brushed along my skin, sending a powerful burn singing through my blood. The two conspired against me, tapping into the unfulfilled, furious lust from my long horny night stuck between my beloved toy arsenal and Nick’s hard, languid body.
He drew my face to his and soundly claimed my mouth in a slow, deep kiss. His tongue caressed mine with unhurried long strokes while his fingertips kneaded my flesh. The combination left me a puddle of humming, aroused mush slumping in my seat.
A little over twelve hours ago, I told Nick he couldn’t handle me.
Now I had to wonder if I could handle him.
It took one potato and two bone-melting kisses before I realized the game we played. Every time I thought I had the upper hand he’d strike.
So far, the score was his three to my zero.
What the fuck had I started?
ChapterEight
The second kisstold me I was in deep shit.
What was supposed to be a private word of warning for the picture she snapped of me in the early morning hoursanda sign of affection for the table became possession.
The minute I tasted her again, it sparked a craving.
The mini bar was powerless to erase her taste. I spent a disgusting amount of time in the shower, fucking my fist, biting my forearm to keep her name from spilling from my lips.
Satisfyingly dissatisfied, yeah, I know, it made no sense, but here we were. And when I was done, I stepped out of the bathroom to find her gone.
In the silence of our room, her brown sugar and vanilla voodoo body wash scent still lingering, want flooded me. In that singular moment, the only thing I could think about was when I could taste her again.
Ignoring everyone at the table including my own parents—definitely unlike me—I reached for her. And if anyone was unclear about where I stood with Charlie McAllister, they weren’t now.
My fake girlfriend got less and less fake with every laugh, every touch, and every shared breath.
Fuck me.
Now, snapping my boot into my binding, with a breakfast I don’t remember tasting swirling in my gut, her kiss lingered despite every bold flavor I’d pummeled my tongue with since.
The condition better not be permanent.
With my second boot snapped in, I pushed off, ski skating my way over to the lift where Charlie waited in line.
“You took off without me.”
She peeled the straps out of her helmet and settled it on her head. “You were in the shower for a really long time, Nick. With all of my toys. Coincidence?”
“I don’t need toys.”
“Went old school and used your hand. That sounds like you. Classic.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just an observation. You’re simple. Polite. Keepin’ it vanilla with the self-love. It’s all… well, consistent. Very you.”
I tugged her straps and dragged her toward me until her board stopped between my skis and I loomed over her. My proximity forced her to crane her neck to meet my eyes.
Good.
“Keep it up and you’re going to find out just how impolite I can be.” Tension settled in the ridge of my shoulders. Just a few more inches and I could take another taste.
Hovering over her, I took in her heavy eyelids and the loaded glance flicked to my mouth.
