“I might need another. Since you got me out here,” I manage, reeling.
“Mmm, good idea. Need to make sure that first one was real, and I didn’t imagine it.”
Is he feeling this too? He must be feeling this chemistry. It can’t be all in my head.
Stop thinking.
I indulge in another long kiss, because he started this, and, well, I’m greedy and short on kisses. Everything falls away, the sleet, the road noise, even the cold does little to cool the heat rising between us. He’s radiating warmth, my fingers catching his.
We lift our heads after who knows how long.
Blood rushes in my ears, the cold forgotten because we’re sparking some sort of fire between us out here on some random London street. Then we kiss yet again, hungry for more, our bodies responding to each other.
One kiss. Two kisses. Three.
My heart careens like a wild thing in the cage of my chest, beating so fast that at any moment I could grow wings and take flight. His fingers move to my biceps, the warmth of his hands encircling me, gently at first, then more firmly. Like the burn of his hands will leave a permanent tattoo through my too-thin clothes.
“Wanna hear something outrageous?” he asks. His eyes dance.
“I live for outrageous.”
“I need you inside me. Like, five minutes ago.” He’s nonchalant, teasing.
My eyebrows climb at that. “Is that so? A bit forward, Morrissey.”
“Afraid so.”
I’m not the sort to turn away from a chance sexual encounter, in full disclosure. But there are rules. Parameters. Like it being Friday night, say, rather than being propositioned in the middle of a Saturday morning shift at the café.
The prospect thrills me. A shiver runs up my spine.
Right. A hookup tonight. I can do that? I can do that. Something to look forward to later before rehearsal. Or after. Or…
I’ll worry about that later. I’ve got Ben in front of me, right here, right now. That’s what matters.
Chapter Six
Naturally, I’ve been hard for about five minutes. Which feels like a lifetime.
The arsehole probably noticed when I kissed him. God, even slightly rumpled he’s looking more tempting than ever, and he’s got on that grin like he’s already seen me naked. What exactly does he fantasize about, anyway?
It’s time to take charge of the situation.
“Well, I only have five minutes and four hours to go till the end of my shift. Not that I’m counting down or anything.” I grip his arse. Firm.
More kisses follow, eager as our mouths seek each other.
“That’s a terribly long time to wait,” he laments, teasing me. “Like, five minutes and four hours too long.”
“Yeah, agreed. Totally unreasonable.”
“Mmm. We better do something about that, then.”
“Great idea.”
The burn of his lips remains rough on mine when we lift our heads and dare to look at each other, two strangers kissing in a snowy street. It’s like the taste of him feeds something I’m dying for, something impulsive and wild. Something that’s well outside of the usualuni-work-Carys-bandroutine, a challenge I don’t want to ignore even though it’s well past Friday night, past the window for fun.
“Let’s start with the five-minute option to fuck, then. It’s festive. To welcome the new year and all that.” His blue eyes are bright with mischief.
