“Very nice,” I said and set aside the bottle of liquor because I needed two hands for this.
He smiled. “Teresa helped me pick it out. She said I was no longer a kitten, but a cat.” He made a little claw with his hand. “Rawr.”
“This top is…” I swallowed thickly. “Something else.”
“Thank you,” he practically purred.
Without thinking, I licked the pad of my thumb and pressed it against one nipple. He inhaled sharply and hissed through his teeth. “Do you like that?” I asked, rolling the nub under my thumb; it was hard as a pebble beneath the clingy, netted material.
“Yes.” He leaned into the touch, so I gave his other nipple the same treatment, then both at the same time with my fingers laddered along his ribs, like fine tuning an instrument. He raised both arms so that his wrists were crossed behind his head. I wanted to memorize the shape of him, every ridge of bone and curve of muscle, feast on him with my eyes and then with my hands, and eventually, my lips.
“These shorts are very tight,” I said. There was a wet spot on the front where the tip of his cock kissed the stretchy fabric. What might he taste like?
“They’re kind of giving me a wedgie.”
I laughed and tugged at the bottom hem, adjusting the fabric for him. From there, my fingers slid up over the soft curve of his ass, coming to rest on the small of his back. My hands fit just right, his skin as smooth as silk under my calloused palms.
“Your dance, did you have to practice it?” I asked.
“A little.” He drilled down into my lap with his pelvis so that his stiff cock nudged my own. “Would you pay me to dance for you if you had the money?”
“I’d give you anything you wanted. My last bullet, my gun, my machete, all my Ziploc bags, even my toothpaste. Maybe you could let me keep my leg?”
“Maybe.” He smiled, dropping his head to one side shyly, and placed both hands on my shoulders. He leaned in and whispered, “Are you going to kiss me now, Cipher?”
The struggle was real. My body and my mind were at odds, and my heart was too weak to say no.
“I don’t think I should, cutie.”
The pout was back in full force, and a little divot wrinkled his otherwise smooth brow. “Why not?”
I flicked one of his loose ringlets. “You seem like the type to break hearts.”
He shrugged, said with a smile, “I wouldn’t know, but I think we should give it a try.”
“You do, huh?”
He nodded, then placed my hand against his cheek, then lower, to cup his pointed chin, his neck, the hollow of his throat. My fingertips danced across one nipple, my knuckles brushed the bare skin of his stomach. I swallowed down a moan, and he bit his lower lip.
“Feels good,” he said, rolling his neck. “Doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I bet you’re a good kisser.” He was staring at my mouth with anticipation.
“We’ll be reaching Atlanta soon,” I reminded him.
“So?”
“What if you meet someone there?” I asked. The mere thought of it was a gut punch. My faceless, hypothetical rival ignited my possessive streak. My hand landed on his upper thigh and squeezed.
“I don’t want anyone else,” he said, frowning. “Do you want someone else?”
“No,” I said with absolute certainty.
“Then kiss me, Cipher. I’m eighteen years old, and I’ve never been kissed. Isn’t that a shame?”
He closed his eyes and leaned in, and I thought, fuck it. I deserved something good, if only for a little while. I met his mouth with my own and gave him a single, chaste kiss, just a soft press of lips. His eyes flew open. Looking a little startled, he placed one hand over his lips. “I didn’t think you’d do it.”
