Mybody, my damn body, was rebelling against me as I continued to breathe him in.I took in the scent that had turned itself into something resembling sex, and really,didn’t every woman dream of being that close to a man with the strong jawlineof a Norse god? I absentmindedly bit my lip, as my eyes fixated on his mouth.It was a good mouth, I thought, as that familiar heated flame ignited betweenmy legs.
“So,I guess I—”
Idon’t remember the moment when I had decided to kiss him, if it had even been adecision to make. He had started to speak, the depth of his voice melting in myears, and I just acted with a sudden surge of lust, silencing him immediatelyas my lips met his. I had surprised him, sending a sharp inhale of breaththrough his nose, but when I cracked my eyes open just to make sure it wasactually happening, I saw that his had softly closed.
Ourlips moved together, a series of small kisses that became more profound when ahand reached over to rest against the side of my face, his fingertips ticklinglightly against the edge of my jaw and the curve of my cheek. My lips partedboldly, fully prepared to coax his open with my tongue, when he pulled away andmy eyes snapped open. His remained closed, but his brows had knitted indistress. His hand never stopped stroking my face.
“Maybethis isn’t a, um …”
Icould sense what was coming next. It was a mistake, he wanted to stop, he wasdisgusted by me, he was ready to leave and never see me again. Each possibilitybecoming worse and worse as they rampaged through my paranoid brain. But I keptstill, waiting for him to make a move.
“Oh,fuck it,” he said with purpose and thrust his open lips against mine.
Heengulfed my mouth, his tongue dancing with mine under the lights of the parkinglot, andGod, it was everything a kiss should be and nothing like anykiss I’d had before. Slow and sensual, without sacrificing any passion orurgency. Our bodies turned in unison towards each other, and my arms loopedaround his neck, standing on my toes, as his hand slid down to the small of myback. His other hand went to meet the other, pulling me closer into him, and mybody shivered with excitement at that familiar swelling that pressed against mystomach. I groaned my acknowledgment into his mouth, and wrapped my fingersaround the long strands of his hair.
Againstmy wishes, he pulled away from my mouth with a groan. “Why are you so fuckingshort?”
“Ormaybe you’re just too—”
Hehushed me with a bite against my lower lip before sliding his tongue back intomy mouth, and without breaking the feverish lock our mouths had on each other,he pushed my back into the van and reached down to wrap an arm around my thigh,lifting me with impressive ease. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around hiswaist, and didn’t complain when the kissing was accompanied by the grinding ofhis hips.
“Holly.”With his forehead pressed against mine, he moaned my name, and I had never beenso happy to share a name with a plant. “I want you so bad.”
Hedidn’t have to tell me, when the evidence of his desire was hard and pressingexactly where I wanted it, and my God, it felt incredible to be wanted. To hearhim moan my name, albeit strange to hear it coming from a different man with adifferent voice with a different way of kissing—a differenteverything.A pang of guilt washed over me, remembering Stephen and the intimacy we hadonce shared, all the times he had said my name in the throes of passion.
Hesent you an invitation to his engagement party.
Thethought chased away any feelings of guilt, as I let my fingers run throughBrandon’s hair. “I want you too,” I groaned, overtaken by the need to have himbetween my legs in the back ofOl’ Rusty.
Butto my disappointment, Brandon gave a little shake of his head. The thrusts ofhis hips came to a halt and he held himself there, pressed hard against me. Theplace between my legs, the one that had been ignored for too long, throbbedwith desperation and anticipation, but I knew as he straightened his back withthat faraway look in his stormy eyes that it was over.
Myfeet dropped to the ground as his hands flew to his hair, raking it all backforcefully as he took a few steps back, shaking his head.
“Goddammit,”he said, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, I’m sosorry.”
“Whatjust happened?” I demanded to know through my frustration.
“I’msorry,” he repeated, shaking his head once again rapidly. His eyes opened, andI saw then a regret that almost broke my heart. “I can’t do this.”
“Butwhy?” I questioned, shocked to find myself whining.
“I-Ijust can’t. I’m sorry.” He looked troubled, and I narrowed my eyes and wishedhe’d stop apologizing.
“Areyou married?” I snapped, looking towards his hands to spot any rings or a signthat one might have been there. “Because if you’re married, then …”
Heshook his head, lifting one corner of his mouth into a sad smile. “No, I’m notmarried.” His voice was low and gentle, as though he were talking to a child.
“Then,what? Are you gay? Is that what it is? Because I seem to have thateffect on men, you know. Maybe kissing me, you just suddenly remembered that,oh shit, you’re gay.” My hands hung limply at my sides, feeling empty andmissing the soft mass of his hair. God, he had amazing hair. I could’ve curledup in that hair and gone to sleep if I had the chance.
Thatbrought him to laugh. “No, definitely not gay.”
“Then…” I took a step towards him, reaching my hands forward to grab the open sidesof his jacket. I planned to pull him toward me and rock his world in thatparking lot in every way I knew how, but he shook his head.
Hissigh was impatient. “Holly, I just can’t.”
“ButIwantyou to!” I hadn’t intended to shout, and I glanced around to makesure no one was around, luckily finding nobody within hearing distance.“Please, Brandon.” I found myself pleading with him. “It’s been so long sinceI’ve been with someone and I just need it. Ineedthis.Please.”
I’mbegging a stranger for sex. Never thought that’d ever happen, but hey, here weare.
