“My God.” I choke out a laugh, trying to be as quiet as possible. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? I can’t believe I ever hooked up with someone as douchey asyou.”
His lips curl into a wicked grin. “You may not be able to believe it, but you sure as shit wish it would happen again.”
“Ha!” I blurt out, a little louder than I mean to. “I’d rather be bucked off a bronc onto concrete a hundred times than ever touch you again.”
Shooter takes a step toward me, closing the distance. His head cocks to the side, lips split into a grin. “Is that so, Addams?”
And just like that, all the oxygen is sucked out of the camper. The air around us shifts. It thickens. My mind blanking on what it was I was even saying before. His baby blue orbs glint as he watches me. Humor lines his features, curiosity curving his brow.
“Well?” he presses after a moment passes with no response.
My throat has gone dry. I swallow, attempting to bring some moisture back. “Well, what?” I question obtusely.
“You’d never, ever want to touch me again?” His voice is a deep rasp at this point. Laced with lust and a drug that goes straight to my head. “You sure about that?”
I don’t know when or how, but he’s somehow closer than he was even a moment ago, our chests brushing as I fight to drag air into my lungs.
Yes, I’m sure,I should say.I want nothing to do with you or your body.It’s right there on the very tip of my incredibly dry tongue.
Do I say any of that? No, of course not. Why would I, when instead I can be a freaking masochist and whimper in place of a response.
Whimper!A pathetic cry vibrates the back of my throat as he stands before me, towering over me, despite us being relatively the same height. It’s his presence. It’s larger than life, and I have next to no experience dealing with situations like this, so I apparently cower, unable to hide anything from him.
And based on the smirk only growing wider on his face, I’d say he knows it too. Shooter inches closer, his face a mere breath away as he glances between my eyes, dipping his gaze to take in my lips before slithering back up. It’s intense. Overwhelming. Infuriatingly hot.
He’sright there, hovering over my mouth, his lips parted invitingly. But it’s becoming painstakingly clear he’s going to wait for me to make the first move.
I heave a deep sigh, my breath fanning his face as a million thoughts storm through my mind at once.
Everything Ishoulddo.
Everything Iwantto do.
And how the answer to those questions are so vastly different from one another.
But right now, with his beautiful, bright blue eyes watching me, his lips brushing against mine with every exhale, and his body heat so close to me, I can’t find it in me to give a crap aboutshouldorshouldn’t.
“Fuck it,” I mumble seconds before my mouth seals against his, knowing full and damn well come morning, I’ll hate myself.
12
Shooter Graham
He said fuck.
I don’t even have time to dissect that because arms are wrapping around my neck as he pulls me into him, his lips parting as I slip my tongue inside. His mouth tastes minty, like he just brushed his teeth, and a contented sigh escapes him when our tongues tangle.
Honestly, I didn’t think he had it in him to make the first move. Admittingly, I was such an asshole to him, and he was so angry, I didn’t think he’d ever do it. But alas, here we are, our lips molded together, our bodies flush, and fuck, I want more. I don’t have the time or the energy to wonder what this’ll mean in the morning, how much more fucked up our already shaky relationship will be, or wonder why the fuck I want him this bad, when during the day, he’s my biggest fucking annoyance. It makes no fucking sense. But again; time, energy, both I don’t have. So, it’s gone. I push it out of my mind.
This double bunk bed situation is less than convenient right now as I’m trying to figure out how to get him horizontal.
Breaking our lips apart, I sit down, reaching for his hand and drawing him closer. Thankfully, severing the kiss didn’t fracture the spell, and he sits beside me before we both lie down, facing one another.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” he whispers. “You’re still an asshole.”
A smirk splits my face. “Whatever you say, Addams.”
This time, it’s me who moves first, capturing his mouth in another searing kiss, his body melting against mine as our tongues move fluidly together, taking and tasting from one another. I wrap a leg around him, hooking it behind his thigh, pulling his body closer to mine. His cock is already starting to thicken, and that knowledge alone sets my blood ablaze.
