I cackled. “She sounds like my Mum. Before she got sick, she told me the dishwasher repair guy’s sister said you should thaw your meat outside and so she would intentionally freeze her meat, just to thaw it on the front lawn. It was practically cooked by the time she brought it inside,” I shuddered, and Corbin’s deep chuckle reverberated through the surrounding brush. I leaned into him,ignoring the flutter being this close to him sent through to my stomach or how that swirling feeling dared a little lower.
Needing a distraction, I watched our footfalls. The dirt track was firm, scattered dry leaves crunching underfoot as I shooed a fly. It was beautiful before, but with a high which elicited cotton wool through to my bones, it was a rich and layered sensory walk infused with the earthy smells of driftwood and testosterone driven virility. I was in utopia.
“That’s one way to cook,” he responded, and I lifted my head to look at him.
“Honestly, I could eat some street thawed meat right now. I’m starving,” I confessed.
“We just ate enough food to feed a small village. But I could probably go more too,” he sighed knowingly, making me giggle.
I grinned apologetically as we moved further down the walking trail. We couldn’t have been more than ten minutes from the cafe, but it felt as though we were the only people for miles and when we eventually came to an opening, I gasped, pointing to a rickety old bridge over a small gully.
“Look!” Detaching myself from his grasp and trying not to focus on the way I instantly missed his touch, I raced across the bridge.
It appeared entirely out of place yet so obviously perfect and when I reached the middle, I glanced back and gestured for him to follow. Plonking myself down onto the ground in a less than graceful move, I swung my legs over the edge and tapped the ground beside me for him to sit.
He followed, the bridge creaking under the strength of our combined weight and I looked into the shallow water below. The moss and rocks were clearly visible, the water cascading through effortlessly searching for another body to join.
Taking his place next to me, our thighs hugged, which despite the warm weather, felt perfect and he reached for my hand again. I didn’t look at him, scared of what I might do or say with how my body camealive under his touch. It had to be the weed, because this was Corbin. And while I could see myself enjoying the fruits of both his mind and body in very filthy ways, he was still Corbin. My incredibly sexy but very much out of my league friend.
“Sometimes when I hold your hand, my colour changes toSasquatch Socks,” leaning forward, he rested his other arm on the railing separating us and the ankle-deep water below.
“That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” I breathed, looking down at where he held my hand firmly in his. It was hot and my palm was sweating and I knew when he moved away, our legs would separate the same way you did when you stuck to a chair in the heat, yet I wanted to be closer. I felt encased in the warmth of his body, and I wanted to suffocate under the fire that was his flame.
I pictured the vibrant pink of sasquatch socks. The way that sentiment felt like a smile of mammoth proportions. Like a yearlong back tickle from someone you love. How the pad of his thumb felt grazing across my skin and how I wondered what it would feel like on other parts of my body.
Somewhere over the last few days, I’d stopped seeing Corbin as my friend and started seeing him as mine. Someone who belonged beside me. There was no denying I was attracted to him, but this didn’t just feel sexual. It felt sensual. More than wanting to seek a mutual release – not that I would decline at this point. But I wanted more from him.
Maybe Kenn was serving horny goat weed because I was sexually charged and ready to explore.
Would it be weird if I asked him to run his fingers over my cheek? Over the bare skin of my neck. Imagining the pads of his fingertips across my jaw, made me shiver and I closed my eyes for just a second. Ignoring how inappropriate it was to sit here in my own mind with these thoughts, I pictured what that would be like. Just for a second, I pondered how it would feel to have him lay behind me and run a path across my naked skin with those gorgeous, strong hands.
When my nipples hardened, my eyes shot open, and my head darted to face him. He was watching me, much closer than I realised, his bloodshot eyes dilated.
Oh, Lord – did he know what I was thinking? Did I speak aloud or accidentally moan?
I wracked my thoughts for something to say but I couldn’t concentrate because he was staring at my mouth, and I could feel his breath on my skin.
“What were you just thinking about” he breathed, his gaze darting to my chest where I was certain my nipples would be visible through the thin material.
“Argh…” For once I was speechless, no excuse or change of subject ready and waiting. My eyes darted between his, my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as I floundered.
“Would it be weird if I kissed you?” He asked, saving me from any further humiliation. “Not for a dare, but because I wanted to?” His voice was breathy and now I knew I was hallucinating. I was still sitting here with my eyes closed and this was part of my daydream. A daydream where my really close, really handsome friend just asked if he could kiss me and I was nodding emphatically as my body tingled.
“It would be weird if you didn’t,” I uttered, licking my lips, imagining this were real.
“Well, we can’t both be weird,” he replied, and time seemed to slow as he untangled our hands and brushed my fringe back from my forehead. Those fingers which appeared strong, were tender against my skin, framing either side of my face as he tilted my head in a very real way.
Nope, not a dream. High, but very much awake.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
He studied my face, mapping my eyes, my nose and finally my mouth as my eyelids fluttered closed and I focused on the feel of him against me. His strong hands on my jaw, his leg pressed firmly against me, his breath soft against my skin before his lips parted my own andI lost focus of everything other than the way his tongue pressed itself into my mouth and commanded the space as if it was his right.
And I wasn’t too proud to say it was.
I lost the ability to even think as he commanded my entire being. There was no room for anything other thanhimand the way the world began and ended with his mouth wrapped around my own and his hands tangled in my hair.
He kissed like he did everything else, practiced, methodical and powerfully and it took me a few moments to realise I was allowed to embrace both him and this moment. He was kissing me – Corbin Chambers was k i s s i n g me and I would not waste this chance.
