“You’re too close, and the background is all wrong. Let’s move over there.”
We relocated from our spot on the roots to the streambank. I studied the landscape and guided him to a particular spot where the moon entered the frame, and the trees in the background weren’t as dense.
Satisfied, I framed the shot to ensure all the elements were as I wanted them.
“Happy yet?” he asked.
“I think so. Smile.”
Ozrik didn’t smile. He posed with a look of seduction worthy of Vogue: a slight parting of his lips, a half-pout, and lidded eyes. He hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets and flicked his wildly untamed hair off his face. The position accentuated his biceps.
My mouth went dry as I tried to act unaffected.
Why was this man here with me?
I took far longer than was necessary to center the picture, hoping that the earthquake rocking my system didn’t mess up the shot. When I was satisfied, I clicked the button.
“Did you get it?” he asked when I lowered the camera.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t look at him and busied myself putting the camera away.
By the time I finished, he had moved in beside me. I fumbled the strap, meaning to hook it over my shoulder, but he took it from my hand and set it on the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“This.” Ozrik clasped my waist and backed me against a nearby tree. “And this.”
His mouth was on me in seconds. The kiss was a thousand times more intense than the two we’d shared previously. The softness and fullness of his lips were my undoing. He pressed me against the tree, his body a hot, hard line against mine as his fingers dug into my hips.
“Okay?” he asked into the kiss.
I made a noise of assent before he delved his tongue into my mouth, where it unapologetically lashed and clashed with mine. He tasted of something sweet and pepperminty, not toothpaste but candy or breath mints. I couldn’t decide which and didn’t care enough to spare it further thought.
It took every ounce of focus to keep up. My inexperience must have glowed like a neon sign. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. When our teeth clacked several times, and our noses seemed to always be in the way, I expected Ozrik to get frustrated, but he didn’t.
He pushed my shirt up and pressed his hands against the bare skin beneath. The blistering heat of his palms set me on fire. My skin came alive. My blood surged, hot and heavy, pooling below the belt. I was ten seconds from full cardiac arrest.
Only when Ozrik pressed his groin against mine did I realize he was in a similar state of unrest. The world spun, and I couldn’t process everything at once. How did people do this? It was like my atoms were being torn apart. It was sensation overload of the best kind, but I was going to embarrass myself if he kept it up.
Ozrik broke from my mouth, panting and smirking. Mischief sparked in his eyes.
My lips tingled and burned.
“Fuck. Do you feel it?”
“What?”
“The electricity.”
I didn’t understand.
“Zap, Gale. Every time.”
“Oh.”
I knew exactly what he meant because I felt it too. Every time. The shock was no longer physical, but it was there. Snapping under the surface of my skin. Reaching for him.
The next kiss was bruising. When he dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of my jeans and stroked them back and forth over the sensitive skin below, my stomach quivered, and the muscles pulled taut.
