“You almost have to after showing your lack of manners.” I step closer and press my palm over his mouth. “You’re supposed to chew with your mouth closed, Dr. Cole.”
His grin is wicked, and his hand comes up, curling around my arm again, but farther down this time. So gentle. So soft. Featherlight. I’m not sure if he means for it to, but it draws us closer together. The last bite of my piece almost slips from between my fingertips.
His eyes dip down, catching as the sauce slips off the side of the dough, the last little black olive on it looking as if it’s melting off. And then he does the unthinkable.
He brings his mouth down and takes the last bite as he wraps his lips around my finger, his tongue sliding over my skin in a way that has me imagining it somewhere else. I work hard to keep my jaw from unhinging and falling to the floor. My heart speeds up, running through a field and trying to take off.
“Yep,” he says, still holding my arm and acting like he didn’t just give me a fucking orgasm from licking my hand. It’s almost like he’s afraid I’ll drift away if he lets go, even though that’s not the case at all. If anything, every cell in my body wants to be closer to him.
I don’t know what that says about me. Probably horrible, rotten things.
He shakes his head and makes a show of swallowing it, like one does when they drink cough syrup. “It’s still just as bad as I remember.”
I’m stunned into silence, unsure of what to say as I slowly chew and swallow what’s in my own mouth. My stomach goes on a long twisty ride, my brain scheming with it.
Dr. Cole is my friend.
My therapist.
He isnotmy fiancé.
Having any other thoughts about him is strictly forbidden. My brain knows that, and so does my heart. And yet, I can’t help myself.
I can’t stop that tingly sensation that reaches my fingertips from his warmth or the way his eyes do something absolutely insane to my lower belly.
I clear my throat, attempting to recover from the wild images flashing through my head. Ones of sharing many pizza nights together, just like this one. Ones of us walking the beach together, despite me not wanting to go anywhere near it. Ones where he’s shirtless, and so am I.
I stammer through a response and drop my chin, looking away. “I-I thought you weren’t going to t-try it?”
His free hand settles on the side of my neck, his fingertips tickling the sensitive skin there as he drags my gaze back up to his. We’re so close that I can smell the tangy scent of tomato sauce that lingers on our breaths.
“Changed my mind,” he says on a rough exhale.
A heartbeat passes between us. I want inside his head. Inside those caramel-colored eyes that calm me just as much as mother nature does for some. I want to see what he sees when he looks at me. What he feels when he’s this close. “There’s something about you,” he admits in a low voice. He lifts his hand and gently tucks a stray hair behind my ear. “Something that makes me deliriously interested in those eyes, that mind, and...” When his gaze flicks to my lips, he doesn’t need to say it. I know.
Those eyes, that mind, that mouth.
I break, moving closer. His affection acts as a mistletoe dangling above us, his pull all I need to completely drown in him. To fall. One final time.
Before I know it, I’m pressed up on my tippy toes, my palm slipping against his cheek as I draw nearer, as my breaths play with his, as my mouth tangles with the illicit affair that begs for my attention.
I kiss him.
His hands immediately drop to my waist, one of his large palms stretching over the small of my back. His mouth is warm, his lips gentle as seconds flutter by in rhythm with my heartbeat. And then, in the snap of a finger, our kiss breaches all boundaries and he dives in, his tongue sweeping the entire length of my own.
My stomach catapults then fucking drops, stirring desire from the pits of hell it’s been living in lately. A needy growl works up his throat, and it only makes it worse. Only makes my panties damp with thoughts of him between my legs.
In the next moment, his hands push down my sides and then he’s lifting me. My body gets the memo right away, my legs curling around his strong body as he walks us toward his living room, which isn’t very far from where we stand. The open concept of his apartment was made for moments like this.
He kisses me until he sits, keeping me close as I straddle his body. A feral mewl comes out of my mouth when he sinks his teeth into my lip then pulls away, peppering love bites along my jaw and down my neck.
Long forgotten are our pizzas.
And everything else in the world.
In this moment, it’s just us, and I fully recognize how dangerous that is. How the image of Lance is barely visible as I sink into this all-consuming thirst that rips at my core.
My hands find his hair, and my fingers comb through his curly locks as I cant my head to the side and give him access to me.
