"I don't do this. I don't just—with someone I met three days ago—"
"Madison."
"Yeah?"
"Stop talking."
I kiss her again and she arches into me, her hands sliding under my shirt. Her fingers are cold against my skin and I hiss atthe contact, but I don't pull away. I couldn't pull away now if this place was on fire.
She tugs at the hem of my shirt and I lean back long enough to yank it over my head. Her eyes go wide, tracking down my chest, and the way she looks at me, like I'm something worth looking at, makes me feel ten feet tall.
"Your turn," I say.
She bites her lip. Then she sits up and pulls her sweater off in one motion.
Jesus.
She's wearing a simple cotton bra, nothing fancy, but it doesn't matter. She could be wearing a paper bag and she'd still be beautiful. Her skin is flushed pink from the fire, from me, and there's a smattering of freckles across her collarbone that I desperately need to taste.
"You're staring," she says.
"I'm appreciating."
"Is that what we're calling it?"
"That's what I'm calling it."
I lower my mouth to her collarbone and trace those freckles with my tongue. She gasps, her hands flying to my shoulders, nails digging in. I smile against her skin and do it again.
"Jake—"
"Mmm?"
"That's—oh—"
I find a spot just below her ear that makes her shiver and I file that information away for later. I want to learn all of her. Every sound she makes, every place that makes her gasp, every way to take her apart and put her back together.
Her hands are in my hair now, tugging, guiding. I follow her lead, kissing down her throat, across her shoulder. She reaches back and unhooks her bra and then there's nothing between us but skin and firelight.
I pull back to look at her. She's breathing hard, chest heaving, and she's so goddamn beautiful it actually hurts.
"You okay?" I ask.
"If you stop now, I will murder you."
"Noted."
I lower my head and take her nipple into my mouth. She cries out—loud, unrestrained—and the sound goes straight to my groin. I swirl my tongue, testing, learning what she likes. She likes it when I'm gentle. She likes it more when I'm not.
"Jake. Jake, please—"
"Please what?"
"I need—more. I need—"
I kiss my way down her stomach and back up again, and I have to close my eyes for a second to get myself under control.
I undo her jeans slowly, giving her time to change her mind. She lifts her hips so I can slide them down, and then she's lying beneath me in nothing but a scrap of cotton that's already damp.
