“Don’t stop,” she breathes. “Please, don’t stop. I want you to kiss me.”
That’s all I need to hear.
My hands slide down to her waist to pull her closer, palms landing at the small of her back, and suddenly her body is pressing into mine like she’s been waiting for me to touch her this entire afternoon. No hesitation, no holding back. I can feel the tension flee the moment my lips are on hers.
I moan.
The kiss is fire.
It’s nothing like the first one—we seem to know what we’re doing now, and waste no time pressing our bodies against each other.
Harper moves her hands to the back of my neck, inching her fingers into my hair, tugging me closer, deepening the kiss until I’m drowning in her.
I drown in the taste of her, in the feel of her pressed against my solid chest.
It’s a messy, frantic kiss. Our lips and teeth clash and our breath mingles in a way that’s chaotic and perfect.
And damn, she’s so soft in all the places I’m not…
Warm.
I can’t get enough of her.
“Shit, Harper.” I groan into her mouth, hands gripping her waist tighter—like I’m afraid she might slip away if I don’t. But she’s not budging from this spot—she’s right here with me, kissing me back with the same urgency.
Harper gasps when I inch my hands up her rib cage.
“You’re killing me,” I say.
Her lips are swollen, her cheeks are flushed—and there’s this look in her eyes that’s driving me wild. “You have no idea what you do to me,” I whisper.
Jesus, what are you saying? You sound like an actor in a bad play…
“What am I doing to you?” Her voice is a bit shaky when she asks, but her fingers are still tangled in my hair.
“Confusing the hell out of me.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly.
I capture her lips in another kiss, slower this time.
More confident.
Harpers moves her hands from my hair to my shoulders, sliding along them like she doesn’t want to stop touching me either.
I break the kiss again—for the briefest second—long enough to catch my breath and whisper, “This is so much better than the first time.”
She laughs. “I’m not saying that first kiss was awful, but we could use some practice.”
My chest squeezes at those words. Does that mean she wants to keep making out with me? I hope so.
“We should stop or your mom is going to come check on us,” she utters, killing my buzz. Harper puts her hands up, a signal to stop, and I feel a pang of regret and disappointment. But…she’s right. I would literally fucking die if my mother caught us making out in her sacred place—and yes, I’ve heard her call it her sacred place.
Harper bites her lip and all of a sudden I want to kiss her again, but before I do anything, a voice cuts through the air like a splash of cold water.
“Who the heck are you?”
