"That was—" I start.
"Yeah."
"We should probably—"
"Yeah."
We stare at each other. His eyes are dark, his lips red from kissing, and he looks as wrecked as I feel.
"Inside?" he suggests.
"Inside," I agree.
We don't make it past the front door.
The second we're through, he's pushing me against the wall, his mouth finding mine again. I grab at his jacket, yanking it open, needing to feel more of him. He groans against my lips and presses closer, and I can feel exactly how much he wants this.
"Wait," I gasp. "Wait, we should—"
"Talk?" He's kissing down my neck. "We can talk later."
"I was going to say slow down."
He stops. Pulls back. His eyes meet mine, and I see him wrestling with himself: the want, the hesitation, the same war I've been fighting since last night.
"Do you want to slow down?" he asks.
I think about it. Really think about it.
"No," I admit. "I don’t."
Chapter 6
Jake
Our lips crash together again, and I walk her backward toward the couch, never breaking the kiss. She stumbles slightly and I catch her, one hand splayed across the small of her back, and she laughs. This breathless, surprised sound that does something complicated to my chest.
"Graceful," I murmur against her lips.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
She does.
We tumble onto the couch in a tangle of limbs. She's half beneath me, her hair fanned out against the worn leather, firelight dancing across her face. She looks up at me with those incredible blue eyes and I forget how to breathe.
"Hi," she whispers.
"Hi."
"This is crazy."
"Why?"
"We barely know each other."
"So?"
