And fuck if I don’t want to know how those lips feel on other places too.
“Christ, Little Reed,” he curses, drawing my attention back to his eyes. At some point, it must’ve moved to his lips. “I’m really trying here, but if you keep looking at me like that…”
His expression turns almost pained, and he shakes his head, not allowing himself to finish the thought.
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to do so much more than kiss you.”
I’m struck with déjà vu as we find ourselves repeating the same moment from earlier at the rink. Except, this time, I’m the one who has to be bold. To say the words sitting right there, on the tip of my tongue, waiting to change everything.
“Would it be such a bad thing if I do?”
Camden’s features soften, almost as if he doesn’t believe what he’s heard. “I… But the rules. You said—”
“I know what I said, but now I’m taking it back,” I say, the words pouring from me before I can overthink them. My throat seizes slightly, and I swallow before repeating myself. “Cam, I take it all back.”
There’s a beat of silence where neither of us dares to speak or breathe or fucking blink, like we’re both grappling with what to do next. Where to go from here. What happens if we cross the line drawn in the sand.
But then we crash together, like waves meeting the shoreline.
I don’t know which of us moves first, and honestly, I don’t really care. The only thing that truly matters is his mouth on mine, stealing my ability to think.
My hands slide up his chest, following the smooth, muscled lines, until they curl around his neck. His fingers slip into my hair, anchoring themselves there as he takes control of the kiss, tilting my head back so he can deepen it.
It’s as measured as it is desperate; as gentle as it is full ofneed. But just as easily as we came slamming together, he rips himself away, ending it far too soon and leaving me panting in confusion.
“Cam—”
“You’re sure?” he asks, cutting me off.
Even half cloaked by darkness, his blue eyes shine with lust and uncertainty, his breath coming out in ragged pants as he waits for my answer.
“Yes, I—”
I don’t get more than that out before he’s crashing his lips into mine again.
And this time, all the gentleness and control is gone.
Eighteen
Logan
Camden kisses me with a hunger I didn’t know any human could possess, his tongue sweeping along my lower lip before diving between them. I welcome the onslaught while he pillages my mouth mercilessly, and my fingers dig into his bicep to hold on and enjoy the ride.
It’s delicious and messy and addictive in a way I didn’t know kissing could be. Full of so much passion and desperation, it feels like I might burst apart at the seams.
With one hand still anchored in my hair and our lips still fused, he rolls over top of me, sliding a knee between my thighs and bracketing my head with his forearms. I can feel the warmth of his chest and stomach radiating into mine, enveloping me in heat and need and desire while we’re skin on skin. I’m wholly encased by him like this, no escape route in sight, but there’s not a shred of me that would want to get away from him.
Not now.
Not when I’ve finally gotten a taste of what my body’s been craving.
My hands move of their own volition, grabbing for whatever smooth expanse of skin I can find next—first his shoulders, then his ribs, before skirting around to the small of his back andclawing at his flesh. Needing to be closer, aching to feel more.
He takes my silent plea as an invitation, rolling the hard ridge of his erection against my hip, and it sends another bolt of desire straight to my stomach. But a surge of panic is quick to follow, dumping a bucket of ice water over my now-raging libido, and I break the kiss, gasping.
Undeterred by my sudden departure, Camden continues pressing his lips to my skin. Starting at my cheek, then carving a path over my jaw and down my throat until he reaches my collarbone.
