His Adam’s apple bobs.
I push forward.
He dips his chin.
And I kiss him.
21
Finally.
It’s the lone thought bouncing around in my skull as I feel the soft, curious press of Aubrey’s lips. I don’t move for a moment. My mind is too busy, too lost to instruct me on what to do next.
She’s right here, pressed so close to me that I’d bet she can feel my heart pounding against my rib cage, excited but downright terrified. Her perfume surrounds me, and I breathe it in through my nose, shivering slightly.
Eyes squeezed shut, she’s unaware of the way I’m staring down at her. Or maybe she can feel how confused I am. How with every second that our lips remain pressed together, I sink deeper and deeper into a pool of the unknown. The dark water drifts over my shoulders, coaxing me to dive beneath the surface and see what’s waiting.
Heat pulses where she’s touching me, her fingers branding my hip and neck. I’m throbbing deep beneath my skin as she presses harder and shifts impossibly closer to me. Her chest glides across mine, and my breath hitches in my throat. The pink tint on her cheeks deepens, her lashes fluttering.
Suddenly, I’m moving.
Aubrey’s lips glide to the corner of my mouth when I fist the thin, tight material of her dress and grab her waist. A soft, surprised sound escapes her before I steal it, kissing her more firmly than she kissed me. Curiosity floods my system and mixes with the instant satisfaction, creating something that has me shutting the front door and pressing her up against it.
She’s so fucking soft. Warm and plush and so, so out of my league. I feel the curve of her hip and strain to breathe past the moan caught in my throat. Her body arches away from the wall, and every inch of her presses against me, short-circuiting my brain. I want more, and fuck, I shouldn’t. She’s not mine to touch like this. To kiss and taste . . . even if she’s not doing a thing to stop me.
No, she’s not pulling away.
The fingers winding through my damp hair curl and pull as she drags me closer. I let her, not anywhere close to done here. Not yet. Consequences be damned.
The backs of my fingers climb the length of her silky-smooth throat before I cup her jaw and tilt her head back just enough that I can deepen our kiss. Heat blooms beneath my touch. I run my tongue along the length of her bottom lip, tasting what’s left of her lip gloss for the very first time.
Artificial strawberries fill my mouth, and I fight off a grin at the sweetness. It’s so innocent. A blaring contradiction to the sharp-tongued, headstrong woman kissing me like she’s trying to take me apart piece by piece.
I trace the dip in the centre of her chin with my thumb and drag my hand higher up her waist. It fills my hand in a way that makes my head spin. She’s a dream of round edges and satin skin. I’m so firm against her, my body crafted by a career in sports, yet together . . . we fit.
My cock presses uncomfortably against the front of my shorts, stiff and aching. I keep myself held back enough that itwon’t dig into her, but the lust zapping through me won’t dull. Instead, it’s reminding me that everything is changing. Guilt tries to pull me away, but I can’t move. Not in any direction but forward.
The fingers on my hip dig deeper, desperate, and I groan. It’s loud, too loud for either of us to pretend we didn’t hear it. I don’t think I care right now, anyway. The only thing I know is that I want her to make me do it again. I’ll do just about anything for her to keep her hands on me, her scent in my nose and heat battling against mine.
Her crown touches the wall, and I shift closer, our bodies completely aligned. The firm press of our middles sets me ablaze. The backs of my eyes flash with white starbursts, and I jerk forward, digging my rigid length against the pulled fabric between her legs.
I release her waist and press my hand to the wall beside her head before I touch her more than I should. My chest heaves as I drag my tongue over the swollen length of her bottom lip one more time, then pull away. She releases a low, displeased noise before swallowing it, keeping her eyes shut as I stare at her.
From this close, I can see everything. Every pore and freckle, the baby hairs at her temples that she’s never been able to tame, and the cluster of lashes on her left eye that are just the slightest bit lighter than the rest. I settle my forehead against hers and inhale to clear the mud from my thoughts.
It’s impossible, though. Not when I’ve still got her face in my hand and my cock nestled against her body. My previous confusion hasn’t been settled. Her sudden presence was surprising enough, but I wasn’t ready for this.
“Are you still angry with me?” I rasp, hardly recognizing the sound of my own voice.
Her face scrunches as she squeezes her eyes shut harder than before. The silence around us is starting to eat at me. My skinitches with discomfort. The guilt I battled off makes another appearance, and I’m weaker now. Less confident in my actions.
“Aubrey?”
She untangles her fingers from my hair and lowers her hand. It falls between us, her nails ghosting over my chest as she opens her eyes and stares at where we touch. I capture her chin between my thumb and forefinger and lift it, forcing her gaze up to mine.
The sheer panic waiting for me makes me flinch.
Before she can say anything, I’m releasing her and taking two steps back. She’s still plastered to the door, and as the heat between us dies off, I’m hit with the full force of what’s just happened. Ice water runs down my spine, freezing my blood.
