“Of course I want you,” I say quietly.
“Stop,” she says, but her voice trembles. “I don’t need your bullshit right now. I told you I had a crush on you, and you laughed at me.”
“You told me that when you were sixteen and I was almost twenty. What was I supposed to say, Blake? You were too damn young, and you’d been part of my life since forever. But the moment you said it, it changed everything, and I’ve been shoving it down ever since. Because we can’t go there.”
“Why not?”
“Because your dad would kill me for one, and when it ends—”
“When?”
“Yes, when. I told you, I’m not good at relationships. If we hook up, I’m going to hurt you.”
She stays quiet, watching me uncertainly.
“I’m a goddamn head case. And I’m selfish. Trust me, you don’t want some self-absorbed, struggling musician who can barely quiet his own thoughts.” I shake my head in frustration. “All I can give you is a good lay.”
Her breath hitches again.
“You deserve more than that.”
She still doesn’t say a word. And I still can’t pull my gaze away from her. From those big eyes and the perfect Cupid’s bow in her lips. The freckles, visible even in the shadows.
I’ve never wanted to kiss anybody more than I want to kiss her right now. And I think she knows it. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, and I almost groan. I want to suck on that tongue. I want to suck and lick every part of her. I want to know what she sounds likewhen she comes.
Instead of moving away, I take a step closer.
One step, then another, until I’m right in front of her.
Now I see her breathing pick up. The sharp rise of her tits beneath her tank top. If I looked closer, I bet I would see the shadowy outlines of her nipples.
Her head tilts up to look at me because she’s so much shorter. Our faces are inches apart. Gazes locked. It feels like she’s peering into my soul.
When I’m only a foot away, Blake reaches up and touches my face. A hot shiver travels up my spine. Her fingers scrape the stubble along my jaw.
“Stop,” I warn.
“You don’t really want me to stop.”
She’s right. I don’t.
Time stands still as I lean into her touch. The soft slosh of water against the dock fades. All I can hear is my own pulse pounding in my ears. And all I can feel is my body betraying me, inching toward her, drawn by a pull I’ve never been able to understand.
“I’m going to ruin you,” I say roughly.
“Maybe I’ll ruin you too,” she whispers back.
She already fucking has.
We need to walk away. Go down those stairs, march inside, and return to our respective beds. I’m about to tell her this when her hands suddenly bunch up the collar of my T-shirt.
She rises onto her toes, her mouth finding mine before I have a chance to object. Not that I would. Common sense abandons me, all my willpower dissipating in the night air the moment she kisses me.
The first press of her lips is soft, tentative, but there’s no stopping the rush of urgency that courses through me, years of restraintsnapping all at once. In a heartbeat, the kiss is fierce and hungry and unforgiving. God help me, but I can’t stop it. Her lips part under mine, and I fucking claim them. I chase her tongue into her mouth, then swallow the tiny moan that she lets out. It’s such a sweet sound. She tastes even sweeter. Like mint toothpaste and temptation.
I shiver when her hands slide into my hair, stroking, pulling my head closer. This kiss is goddamneverything. It’s a drug. Deep and desperate. I’m so hard it hurts, unable to stop myself from cupping her ass and tugging her against me. Letting her feel what she does to me. How bad I want her.
She thinks she’s not fire.
