His mouth works mine open, and my tongue tests the waters, brushing along his lower lip as he shudders against me. Lips and cheeks tingle as he matches my hunger, his tongue rolling with mine as both of our breathing turns rapid.
Neither of us rush, but even with the slow, deliberate movements of our mouths, my entire body is on fire. My knees slide apart, and he immediately fills the space, a soft moan tumbling from my throat as my cock presses against his stomach. So enwrapped in the kiss, I forget how to breathe…
Wait…
The tingling in my cheeks gets worse, and I pull away, gasping for a breath. Beau’s eyes snap open, widening as they dart in a panic around my face. “What the hell? Az, what happened?!” I take a rasping inhale, fingers running over my swollen face as a loud cackle rings out from behind us.
Beau whips around right as my sights zero in on Delilah. She stands outside the restaurant, laughing hysterically as my lips blow up like a balloon. “Vee cawffee!” I grab my cup, and Beau snatches it from my hand and dumps it, showing me the glob of peanut butter at the bottom.
“Give me the other cup.” Red splotches on his cheeks grow more pronounced, and it isn’t from anger alone. I hand it over and he curses under his breath as he finds a dollop in his, as well.
“Awre woo awwergic, too?!” He nods, wild-eyed, as Delilah realizes this has turned into something more than she bargained for. She jogs over, amusement and terror warring on her sneering face.
“Beau, what’s—” He is furious as he whips around, skin speckled in neon red. “Oh, fuck! You weren’t supposed to beallergic too! I saw the note about the allergy for the little man on Beatrice’s pad, and…”
“Cawme own,” I say, cutting her off as ‘little man’ steals the last of my waning patience. He twists to me as I shake his arm, his grimace already telling me what my face looks like. “Do woo habe an epepeh?”
“A what?” he asks, brows knitted.
“Aepepeh!?”
“Pee-what?”
“EH-PEH-PEHN?” I shout, tongue getting thicker in my mouth as the tingling spreads to my throat.
“Peen!?”
“EH! PEH! PEHN!”
“Hold tight, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I can’t understand you. Oh, just get the fuck out of my way,” he growls at Delilah as he slams my door shut, running around to the driver’s side of the truck and climbing in. “We’ve gotta go to the hospital, darlin’. I’m afraid our plans are going to have to wait.”
Chapter 8
Beau
Turns out, severe peanut allergies are something Azrael and I have in common.
Also turns out, they’re a major buzzkill.
We were both injected with epinephrine and monitored until Azrael’s swelling went down and my skin stopped looking like a sporadic case of chicken pox. By the time we could leave, it was late, and we were exhausted. My mouth was so sensitive I couldn’t even give him a proper goodnight kiss, settling for a light peck on the lips.
It’s been three days now, and he’s coming to my house after work. I’m dying to see him, no better than a teenager with a crush.
“Mr. Harris, you’re not listening.” One of my students chides me from her seat, and I force myself to concentrate on the lesson.
“Sorry, Katie, sometimes my train of thought gets derailed. What was the question again?” She rattles on, asking a dozen questions about next week’s biology test, and I manage to keep my head in the game, if barely.
By the time the final bell rings and the students file out of the classroom, I almost sprint to the parking lot. Even though I showered this morning, it’s hot outside, and despite living here my entire life, the humidity makes me sweat. We’re staying in tonight, so after I shower, I pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt.
Ten minutes later, my doorbell rings, and I’m almost giddy as I answer. Az stands on the porch, looking like a snack in a pair of jeans and a shirt that readsWing Man, the cerulean color turning his eyes more blue than gray. The street and driveway are empty, and I frown. “Where’s your ride?”
“I see that mouth is better,” he says, then lunges. There’s barely time for me to catch him as he throws himself into my arms, clutching my neck and pulling me to him. His lips crash into mine and a groan slips free, passing between us as his fingers weave through my damp hair. The hesitation from our first date is gone, and he’s insistent as he forces my lips apart, the tip of his tongue brushing mine.
A low rumble, almost a growl, rises in my throat as I lift him, his legs settling around my waist as I carry him into the kitchen. Our lips never separate as I place him on the counter, tongue thrusting into his mouth while his fingertips dig into my shoulders, spurring me on.
When we finally break apart, it’s because we both need to come up for air. Foreheads pressed together, we’re both panting as we smile in unison. “No adverse reaction this time?” I ask, andhe huffs a laugh as he shakes his head. “Good, I was worried you were just allergic to me.”
“Your nuts are safe with me,” he says, unable to stop the giant grin from spreading over his face as I groan and roll my eyes.
