Because one minute, Will is looking at me with a dare in his eyes, and the next, I wind up airborne, my legs wrapped around his waist as his arms support my weight, and we’re kissing against the doorframe of my room.
Finally, finally, finally.
They aren’t frantic, our first kisses. Our mouths have no trouble connecting, and Will doesn’t struggle to hold me aloft. He pins me easily, just the way he wants me, his toe wedged between the door and the frame to keep us from being locked out. I loop my hands into his plush hair and pull his face toward mine.
Lightly, Will groans into my mouth as his lips pinch and pull and tug harshly against mine. I feel the vibration of that sound traveldowninto my stomach, then go off there like a bomb. His lips tease, taste, slow and then slowerand then slower,like he’s winding himself down, even as his hips push forward into mine, creating our hinge point.
This is where our bodies join,the hinge point informs me.Move the rest of your body all you want, just stay connected here.Even as his teeth pinch my lips but don’tbitethem, even as his groans go softer, smaller, like he’s trying to stop making audible noises of pleasure but can’t quite manage it, I focus on the place we aren’t supposed to separate just as Will inches back.
“Wait,” he says, breath labored. “Josephine. Sweetheart. Are you absolutely certain you want this?”
“It’s my birthday,” I reply, voice wobbling. “Please.”
Something dark flashes in his eyes, and his lips come back to mine. Tender and gentle, methodical, unhurried.
This is him holding back, I realize. He’s giving me time to readjust to the way it’s supposed to feel with a partner.
But I’veneverfelt like this with a partner, and I don’t know how to process that. I’ve never felt so in tune, so physically matched to someone. His thumbnail scrapes lightly across theback side of my thigh, and what that really means is he just decided it’s where I’ll get a tattoo that readsWill Grant was here.His nose brushes back and forth against mine while we take a minute to catch our breath, hips rocking, and what that really means isHere’s your permission to breathe, Josephine. From now on, it’s mine to give, mine to take back.
He takes it back, closing the gap between our mouths once more while my back arches and our stomachs inhale and exhale against each other.
Thedingof the elevator somewhere around a hallway corner is what finally makes him carry me inside. My ass lands on the desk and the door latches closed. His hands start roving, up and down my sides, into my hair, thumbs on my cheeks, my temples. His lips by my ear, teeth tugging on my earlobe.
Will’s left hand pushes just so on my shoulder until my upper half is horizontally spread across the desk. His body bends over mine like a magnet. He’s standing between my legs, which are limply spread to fit him, and his hair falls over his eyes as he gazes down at me with thoseblue eyes brown hair, brown hair blue eyes,and I am literally about to die.
I’m going to perish.
I’m two seconds from passing away.
“You’re so hot,” I blurt.
Will laughs hoarsely. He leans on one arm, causing his triceps to bulge. With his other hand, he cups the side of my face and traces my lower lip with his thumb, pinching at it, mesmerized by it. “You’reso hot. Fuckinglookat you, J. Swollen lips, bright red. I think it’s prettier than any lipstick you’ve ever worn.”
He kisses me again, still laughing softly, deep in his throat. His hands slide over my stomach, across the bare skin where my pajama top rode up. “Can I take all your clothes off and touch wherever I want on your body?”
I’m not even joking about it this time.
I’m not being facetious.
I literally come. And it’s coupled with a gasp that sort of very obviouslylets him know what just happened and I am truly going to DIE—
“Did you just…” His hand on my stomach settles there, more heavily, as he watches me try to hold still all the way through it. I blush and say nothing, go rigid as a statue.
When I won’t meet his eyes, he gently grabs my chin until our gazes finally lock. “You are the end of everything for me,” he says, his voice drawn out and strung up and pummeled and ruinous. “How many times do you think I can get you to do that?”
“But the Spanish architecture!” I gasp.
“Funny thing about buildings.” His head drops to the space between my breasts. “They don’t go anywhere.”
“I want to,” I say on a sigh, my eyes fluttering closed as he kisses just above the lacy border of my top.
“Me, too, J. It’s actuallyallI want—”
“I want to look at buildings with you.”
Will pauses. “I thought you wanted a hotel workout,” he mumbles against my skin.
“Hang on.” Will’s body lifts off mine as he pushes against his palms, and our eyes catch. “I like this,” I say. “I want this. But my body isn’t used to it. Not just sex, but, like,kissing.And being turned on. My body isn’t used to beingthisturned on.”
