“That’s a dangerous career,” I say eventually. My voice comes out lower than I meant.
She shrugs one delicate shoulder.
“Everything worth doing can be dangerous.”
Of course she says that. Of course she looks at me when she does.
Her legs swing lightly where they hang over the front of the hood, her strap heels tapping against the metal. She leans back on her palms, dress riding just a little higher on her thighs, every movement of hers unfolding in slow motion in my head.
When she finishes the rest of her smoothie, I take the cup from her hand and hop off the hood to throw it out.
It’s getting windy, thunder will arrive tonight.
When I turn back around, I look at the view—my view.
She’s sitting on the hood of my car, drenched in the last gold of the day, like something meant to be worshipped.
The look on her face is not heavenly though, but more wicked instead.
I walk back to the car and stop in front of her, planting my hands on the hood next to her thighs. She uncrosses her ankles and lets her knees fall open just enough to let me in.
The sunset is anchoring itself in her eyes, turning the chocolate brown almost honey-like.
We stare at each other for a moment but the air between us tightens. Her eyes flicker between mine and her hand suddenly lifts to my face, grazing my jaw carefully.
The touch is making my brain melt. I plant my hands under her knees to slide her closer to me until her body hits mine and there’s no space between us left.
She comes for my lips, and we kiss gently for exactly one second before her legs anchor around my waist and I can’t stop myself from going deeper after her, our tongues touching delicately, her hands sinking into my hair.
A silent groan escapes my mouth between the kisses, my hand gripping her thigh as she gasps into my mouth. She tastes like strawberry smoothie mixed with summer night. I’m losing my mind here.
Her fingers gently graze the bruises on my skin, the slight pain making it even better.
“Does it hurt?” she asks, her voice full of care.
My sweet Kiara.
“Yeah, don’t stop,” I mutter against her lips.
Raindrops begin to fall, light at first, sliding over our skin, catching on our lips as they mix into our kisses. The sudden coolness only makes everything sharper. Stronger.
I lean into her until she gives in to it, her back meeting the hood, the metal cold beneath her.
The rain gathers quickly now, clinging to her lashes before slipping down her cheeks in slow, uneven trails. I go for another deep kiss, sucking on her bottom lip, drawn in by the way she reacts, by the way everything in her seems to open for me.
I’m unbearably hard for her, instantly. When I try to nudge my groin further away, she grips my collar and tucks me in.
“Don’t.” Her words shatter against my lips.
“Wait,” I mumble and try to pull away but her hand slides down my stomach.
“No, please,” her fingers curl under my belt right where the happy trail is and she slams me back to herself with one quick pull.
My lap thrusts into hers and the contact pulls a sound from her—louder, rawer than anything before. It goes straight through me, the sound altering my brain chemistry.
Fuck. I’m completely fucked.
Her hand lingers, drifting over my waist, pushing my shirt up just enough to touch, to explore.
