Her mouth curves and she shifts closer, kissing me again. Only this time it’s more. More lips. More tongue. More of her gorgeous body pressed to mine.
She strokes her tongue against the seam of my mouth and I part my lips, allowing her inside.
Her moan is soft, but it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard, and the way she brushes her breasts against my arm, tightens her hand in my hair…
More of my control eroded.
More need coiling in my stomach.
More cramping in my fingers.
“You taste good,” she whispers.
“Like fucking ambrosia,” I rasp, digging my fingers into my jeans, knowing I’m probably giving myself bruises but not able to summon one flying fuck about it. “More?” I ask.
Or maybe beg.
Either way, there’s a flicker of mischief, of sultry feminine confidence in those gorgeous blue eyes.
And then I get her mouth back on mine, her body pressing closer, those gentle strokes of her tongue, the firm grip of my hair, the softness of her body against the hardness of mine.
I’ve never had a more addictive drug.
But I know when she breaks away to suck in another breath and then her grip tightens and she leans in again that she’s had enough.
She’s as under the influence of desire as I am.
And it would only take one slight nudge to send her in the wrong direction, to have that panic sweeping up and taking over.
To steal this from her too.
So, I finally release my legs, the blood burning through my flesh as I slowly catch her shoulder, staying her before her mouth can find mine again.
“Enough, baby.”
Her eyes are dilated, her lips are swollen, and she blinks dazedly. “Wh-what?”
“That’s enough for tonight, baby.”
“I—what?”
Smiling, I slide my hand down along her arm until I can lace my fingers through hers and draw her up to her feet. “Walk me out, starfire?”
A blink.
Another.
Then she shakes her head as though to clear it. “You’re going?”
“You need to go to bed,” I remind her. “And I need to pack for the road trip.”
“R-right,” she whispers.
But her eyes skate away…and there’s something in them that I don’t like.
“What is it?” I ask when she tries pull her hand from mine. I hold on, but only for a second then reluctantly allow her fingers to slip free.
“Nothing,” she says softly. “Let’s get your coat and shoes?—”
