“Tell me.”
Klein’s eyes darken. His gaze roves over my shoulders and up again.
“Paisley’s honeyed hair tips down her back. Her chin tilts, exposing her thrumming pulse.”
His words tumble over me, spurring my heart to beat faster.
He comes closer. His hands leave me, settling on my hip creases. He drags me forward in one rough motion. His head dips, and then his lips meet my neck. Back and forth they swipe, only an inch of ground covered, and histongue darts out over the rush of blood beneath my skin. “Her skin is sweet, like sugar, a taste so delicious he could lose himself in it. In her.”
I gulp. The tip of his nose runs up my neck. Over my jaw where his hands had been. I reach for him, his waist, my touch winding around to his back.
His lips travel across my skin, the corners of our lips meeting. “Her mouth is one he’s kissed before, yet somehow it feels like a first. The time before was a joke, a game, a trick played by fate.” His words vibrate against my cheek. I squirm against him, trying to get closer, to make all parts of us touch.
His left hand journeys around my rib cage, flattening against my back. His right hand lifts, snaking through my hair, coming to rest on the back of my head. He leans me back slightly, tipping up my face, pulling me in closer so the want between my legs meets his lower stomach.
A cry slips between my teeth at the friction I’d been desperate for. It’s temporary though, a momentary salve, and now I’m wantingmore more more.
Klein’s lips brush over mine—finally!—and he hovers there. “What am I going to do with you, Ace?”
Everything. His hands, his mouth, I want him all over me.
“Kiss me, Klein,” I manage to say, in a voice too breathy, too wanton to be me. And yet, that’s me. Wanting Klein. Practically mewling, rubbing myself against him.
There’s a groaning sound low in his throat, almost feral, and then he lowers his mouth to mine.
I don’t respond gently. I don’t have it in me. I’m filledwith need for this man, a desire that has me rolling my hips, seeking relief deliverable in only one way.
His tongue dips into my mouth, tasting me, and my hands traverse his back, working their way into his hair.
We kiss like we’re needy.
We kiss like we’re desperate.
We kiss like people who’ve been dancing around their attraction for weeks, who’ve been coming to the thought of one another.
Our frenzied kisses slow, and Klein nips at the side of my lower lip. My grinding against his stomach ceases. Our chests rise and fall as our breath comes back to us.
His forehead falls against mine. “Damn, Paisley. That didn’t only putourfirst kiss to shame. That putallfirst kisses to shame.”
My sense returns. Klein straightens, bringing me upright. “Yeah,” I manage. “That, um, more than made up for it.”
My gaze finds the front of his pants, the massive outline pushing against the fabric, and a fresh round of blood flow sends an ache to my lady part. His hands go into his pockets and he shifts, making room in the front of his shorts.
I laugh, meeting his eyes. He shrugs, but he’s blushing, and why do I like that so much?
“I guess I should let you have some privacy so you can get changed for the beach.”
I nod. “I guess so.”
He strides out, closing the bathroom door behind him. I rush over to lock it, and reach into my toiletries bag.
If it weren’t for thisfacial cleansing device, I might melt into a puddle right here.
CHAPTER 26
Klein
Here’sthe thing about people like me. Wordsmiths, as Paisley creatively called me. We’re always creating stories in our heads. Or, taking a developing situation and finishing out the scenario.
