He licks his lips. “I’m thinking you and I need to figure out how to handle our bride and groom kiss, or else we’re really going to make fools out of ourselves at the wedding.”
I suck in a breath, letting my eyes trace his mouth.
Don’t do it, a voice in my head whispers.Don’t do it, Jules. Say ‘no’.
I ignore it.
“Maybe we should practice,” I say hoarsely.
Because practicing is completely reasonable. If you want to be good at anything (kissing included) you need practice. That’s a perfectly logical approach.
“Agreed.” Lincoln takes a step closer, his face already lowering to mine. “No time like the present.”
“Agreed.”
Jules. No, my guardian angel says again in that same stern tone.
But my mind’s made up. Divine intervention can’t stop me now.
I’m already gripping Lincoln’s shirt and rising up on my tiptoes.
He grabs my jaw right as the force of his chest slams me against the door. In a heartbeat, his greedy mouth is on mine.
And that’s when I realize that I’m starving.
I hook my arm around his neck and roughly pull him closer, my lips parting on a groan. His tongue licks hungrily against mine.
My pelvis bucks against him, and he bares down, letting his rock hard erection make its presence known.
“Goddamn,” he whispers into my mouth as his hands find my sides, pulling up the fabric of my dress and letting his fingers slip against my bare skin.
My leg hooks around the back of his, giving him better access. He doesn’t hesitate to take it. He grinds down against me, his hard-on applying pressure to my clit.
Lincoln is touching me all over. One hand is massaging my breast, the other squeezing the back of my thigh. Meanwhile, my fingers are in his hair, tugging on the silky, dark brown, always-perfect strands.
The spark between us has combusted into an inferno. And I’m lost. Lost to the maddening chemistry between us.
And then a not-so-heavenly voice crackles from somewhere in the shadows. “Seriously, guys? On the freaking porch?”
This time, my guardian angel sounds pissed. And a bit too real.
Lincoln jumps back, looking around the porch. He’s panting desperately, his eyes are wild and his hair is a mess as he scans our surroundings.
Dizzy and cross-eyed, I glance over my shoulder. When the voice speaks again, I realize that it’s my roommate.
“Thanks so much for the free live-action porno,” Laney says from where her head is sticking out of her bedroom window. “But I’m not sure the neighbors across the street are enjoying it as much as I am. You know that ever since Mr. Brunson’s grandson became sheriff, the old man calls law enforcement for the slightest disturbance.”
“Shit. She’s right,” I mutter, stumbling on my weak knees as I tug my dress back into place.
Lincoln is still staring at me, in a lust-powered daze. His eyes tell me he’s waiting on an invitation to take this party to my bed.
But I can’t. I shouldn’t.
Lincoln may be able to compartmentalize his feelings. But I’m starting to realize that I can’t. For me, sleeping with him would only end in disaster.
Twisting my doorknob, I take a step backward, inside the house. “Good night, Lincoln.”
He stares at me for a long moment before his head gives one resigned nod. “Good night, Jules.”
