No, I didn’t expect it. I didnotsee it coming that he would kiss me here, in the junkyard, when all the others weresomewhere around us. I did not expect to be kissed at all, but here he was.
Soft lips on mine. His hands held onto my face like it was something fragile, sensitive, like I might break if he handled me too hard.
But I thought I would if he didn’t.
Something came over me—something wild and hot and all-consuming, and I was no longer against the pile of metal, but my arms had wrapped around his neck tightly. I was standing on my tiptoes, too, my chest pressed against his arms as he held me still.
We stayed like that for a good moment, lost completely in each other, the junkyard and all the other Hands forgotten.
Then March let go of my lips, let go of my face. I made to move back thinking he wanted to step away, too, but then his arm snaked around my waist harder than when we’d danced, and his hand wrapped around the back of my head. He held me there a second, breathing heavily. He looked at my lips with bloodshot eyes, and he could have been hungry and desperate and in complete bliss all at once.
“March,” I whispered, just because it felt right to say his name while it was etching itself in my bones all over again.
The moment the word left my lips, he slammed his against mine.
I’d kissed before—the same boy, three separate times. I’d been younger then, a proper teenager, but I remembered it well enough to know it hadn’t beenlike this.Not even close.
The feelings in my chest when March kissed my upper lip, then the bottom one, then took it between his teeth a little bit, were brand new and ancient at the same time. I surrendered completely even before his tongue came out, wet and warm and soft, and licked my bottom lip like it was covered in his favorite icing.
A small moan escaped him, and it was like he pressed abutton on me somewhere, a button that turned on the heat of my body, made my blood rush, my heart gallop.
Then his tongue was in my mouth, and the world no longer existed.
He kissed me like he was starved his whole life, and I was no different. Ihadbeen starved, in fact—for this. For the taste of him, the feel of him. It should be impossible tofeela kiss so deep inside me, but I felt him everywhere. The harder he pulled me against his chest, the more I wanted to get under his skin all the way.
My hands were in his hair—finally. I grabbed fistfuls of it, pulled and caressed to my heart’s desire while March moved us—I didn’t care where. He moved us back and then there was only darkness behind my closed lids, and I still didn’t care one bit.
His hands moved, too, down my back and to my ass. He grabbed me and pulled me against himself harder, and his erection pressed against my stomach like it was begging for me. The wet sound our tongues made while they tasted each other, and the sound of our lips and teeth when we sucked and bit were otherworldly.
The heat between my legs burned me. Scorched me. Demandedmore.
With every new inch of me March touched, I understood my body better. With every new part of him I reached when I slipped my hands underneath the collar of his shirt, I wanted to understandhisbody just as well as mine.
Then somebody shouted from the other side of the junkyard—“Hey! Where’d she go?!”
It was Reggie.
We let go and stepped back at the same time, completely disoriented, lost to the sensation still. March had pulled us to the corner where barely any light came through, but I still saw the glistening of his bloodshot eyes. I still felt therhythm of his breath, and I knew his heart beat the same as mine.
Footsteps—and Reggie wasn’t alone as he came closer.
A smile on my burning lips as I touched them, surprised to find no flames on my skin.
“Well? Did you expect it?” March said, and I heard the grin in his voice even though he sounded breathless.
“Not at all, Heartling. Well done,” I said when I caught enough air in my lungs.
By then the sound of Reggie’s footsteps said he was just around the nearest pile, so I moved on instinct, stepped away from the shadows and into the light just as they saw us.
“There you a—wait.”
Reggie looked at March, then at me, then back at Seth standing next to him. “Do you see that?” His brows shot up. “Holy Hour, did you two just make out?!”
Sparetime save me, I was going to die of embarrassment.
“You’re a dickhead, you know that?” March said, chuckling, and I did the best thing I knew how to do—I practicallyranto the other side of the junkyard.
“Gotcha! I gotcha!”Reggie called at the top of his lungs and laughed his heart out, and Seth had joined him, too.
