It’s awkward at first. My lips on his lips, both of us unmoving. The yawn of space between our bodies. His eyes are still open,something I only notice after an absent blink. He isn’t doing anything because he’s waiting for me to take the lead.
A split second of panic floods me. I can’t do that. I have no idea how to lead. For fuck’s sake, I don’t even know where to put my hands, but his fall back on my shoulders as soon as my lips break away from his.
“It’s okay. You can take your time.”
“I’m sorry.” I can’t even look at him. “I—”
“Shh.” He takes a step closer, until our chests are flush. “It’s okay,” he repeats, close enough for our lips to touch. He’s never looked at me this way before, his deep brown eyes like smoldering embers. Whiskey fire hot enough to burn me alive. His thumbs work slow circles on my shoulders, the heat of his skin warm through the fabric of my shirt. My eyes flick down to his lips, and I have trouble catching my breath. Maybe I can do this after all, if he keeps looking at me like he wants to devour me whole. If I step an inch closer, place my hand on his cheek, curl my fingers into his hair, and pull him down to meet me…
Yes.
The change is immediate. He turns his head slightly until our noses aren’t in the way of each other, and then his lips are a hot graze against my skin. For the second time his mouth closes over mine, only now it’s different. It’sbetter. He teases my bottom lip with his tongue, introducing a brand-new sensation to my nervous system.
Oh. Okay.
I part my lips on a gasp, and he wastes no time taking full advantage. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, gliding against mine in the most exquisite way. He angles my head slightly for better range, andholy shitI have never been kissed like this before. Not even my first kiss with Steven was this good. Steven took. Juliangives. He gauges my response to him and acts accordingly.
Kissing to enchant.
One hand slips up my back, pushing me into the warmth of his chest while the other grasps the nape of my neck. When his fingers curl into my hair, gently tugging my head back for better access, it’s all I can do to restrain myself from moaning in his mouth. I have the oddest urge to clench my thighs together to quell the ache growing between them. Good lord, all we’re doing iskissing. Why do I feel like this? How can he make me feel so out of control like this so soon?
My hands move up his chest, exploring tentatively, but I’m not thinking straight enough to concentrate on what my hands are doing. I’m too focused on what he’s doing, on the leg that’s found its way between mine, on the strong thigh I’d like nothing more than to grind against. Chase the pleasure he’s been building with his mouth until I combust. I can almost imagine what his kiss would feel like on other places of my body, and for the first time I’ve never craved anything more.
Kissing to…seduce?
It should scare me, how much more of him I want. It’s so easy to let him take control, to let myself indulge in his gently coaxing tongue, to find a rhythm I’m eager to follow. I’d follow him right over the edge of a cliff and never look back. What was so confusing about when his hands slid down my waist on the couch earlier is that it wasn’t a singular attraction to Julian I felt in that moment. It was a cross between romantic and sexual. I’ve never felt both for one person at the same time.
Not until now.
Right when I’ve gotten used to kissing him, when a finger finds its way through the loop of his jeans to pull him even closer, when he has me panting and shaking with a need I don’t entirely understand, it’s over as soon as I’ve decided I want this. I wantJulian. When he pulls away, I nearly let out a whimper.
“How was that?” His voice is so soft, I barely hear it.
“Um…” I force my eyes open. I’m still reeling from all these new sensations, dazed in a way I never knew just kissing could make me. “Yeah. Yes.”
“Yes to which part?”
“All of it. Yes.” The side of his mouth lifts, all deviousness. My face ison fire. And to make matters worse, I gave away my hand before I was prepared to. “Don’t go getting an ego about it, but from my very little experience, I’d say you are an A-plus kisser. Good work, pal.” And to bring us back down to earth, I give his shoulder a light punch. He laughs, that devious smile growing goofy.
“You are something else.” But he doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing. “And as far as date prepping goes, this has easily been my favorite way to help you out.”
I punch him harder this time. He laughs even as he yelps and clutches his arm.
“If you put this on my permanent record, I swear to god—”
“Come on, Leti. Give me a little more credit than that.” His tone is light, but there’s a slight edge to it. Why is it my first inclination to think the worst of him when he’s done so much for me? I trust him. He knows I trust him, because I told him as much. There’s no reason for me to keep my defenses up around him. He’s already proven he knows every way around them.
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “I know you’re not like that. It was a stupid thing to say.”
“It’s all good.” His smile comes easier, and it blows my mind that mere minutes ago, his tongue was in my mouth. There’s no trace of me on him, but I don’t think the same can be said for me.
“Anyway.” I blow out a breath between my teeth. “If I haven’t said it yet, thank you. Seriously. And I’m sorry for constantly calling on you for help. I’m obviously a mess when it comes to this stuff.”
“You’re not as bad as you think,” he says. “Nathaniel’s a lucky guy.”
Nathaniel. Right.
What does it say about me that I’m casually kissing one person while I have second-date plans with someone else? Not that we’re exclusive, and Nathaniel could be dating multiple people. Heck, I’m technically doing that too. I’ve got at least three different message threads going with my other matches. Have I bitten off more than I can chew?
