The cacophony of conversations around us was reduced to mumblings as the room started and ended with him. The earthy tones to his brows and his dark lashes which framed the green of those eyes. And that mouth with those kissable lips I’d thought about more than once over the last few days. They were calling me to feel the tenderness of their embrace. Begging me to bite, lick and suck on them while I slid nails across his short hair.
He grazed his fingers along the bare skin of my thigh, moving under the fabric of my cotton dress before raking back down. My body clenched tight, a shiver coursing through me under his heated proximity. But the whole time his eyes never left my face – gauging my response to the things he was doing. We were inches apart, my hands gliding across the thin cotton fabric of his shirt and around his neck, a small sigh escaping my throat when my body finally pressed into his and he squeezed my legs tight.
“My body remembers you,” I breathed, his wide eyes snapping to mine.
He made me so hot, so desperate, I spoke with no filter. My chest rose and fell, the hunger in his gaze, dark and unwavering. The slight twitch of his mouth told me he was holding something back and I wished I could walk that confession back.
He was the ultimate gentleman. My friend and my protector. He made me feel wealthy. Not financially, but emotionally and I ached for him in a way I never realised. I’d often sought him out over the years even if it was just to check-in, knowing he would always answer my messages regardless of the time difference. He was the one I clung to when Mum was initially diagnosed and then again years later when she was re-diagnosed. It was him I longed for when I didn’t have a date for prom and again when I discovered my first boyfriend had been cheating on me.
It was always him.
Mentally slapping myself, I mustered the courage to apologise for crossing a line or ruining the moment. These were things I never shared with anyone, especially him. I didn’t know why this triggered him but there was nothing I wanted less than to ruin my friendship with Corbin – my only friendship if I was entirely honest with myself – but before I could, his hands were on my face and his lips crashed against mine. It was my turn to still, the unexpectedness completely bamboozling me and it took a second for my body to catch up, his tongue demanding entrance into my mouth before I even had a chance to respond.
Friendship be damned. This was what I wanted and I melted into a puddle, softening into his arms, moulding myself to him. The man could kiss, soft yet driven with passion and with his hand tenderly brushing my hair back, his thighs firmly holding me to him and his tongue assaulting my mouth in the best of ways, I could die a happy woman. He tasted like the blueberry cocktail we’d shared and it was somehow sweeter on his tongue.
If I wasn’t drunk before, I was now.
“We need to stop,” his voice was rough. Throaty with restraint.
“Eh, what’s a little public indecency,” I teased, biting at his jaw as he chuckled.
“You like the idea of being watched?” He asked, a devilish grin splitting his face and I felt my cheeks flush.
Did I?
“Maybe not watched,” I replied unconvincingly.
"Come on, Canada,” he chuckled, throwing some money on the bar and taking my hand in his before dragging me from where we sat. “I need you alone.”
When his confession hit my ears, I stopped any form of resistance and picked up the pace. My body thrived under his touch, pulsated with need and the discipline it took not to touch him every single second, evaporated. Because I no longer cared. I was done fighting the compulsion to stay away.
The second we stepped outside and onto the street I was back on him, pressing up onto my toes and pulling him down to my mouth. His response was instantaneous and he not only matched my heat but amplified it until we were an inferno. I could feel him harden against me and it only exacerbated my starvation until I was panting into his mouth. Again, with a level of restraint I lacked, he pulled me towards his truck and buckled me in before racing around to the driver’s side.
Even in the moonlight, I could see the way his tongue darted out to moisten his swollen lips. The way he checked his revision mirrors before exiting the car park and jumping onto the main drag.
I leant across the console and stroked his thigh, teasingly moving higher and higher with each upward stroke. He was rigid, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the noticeable bulge of his groin making me ache.
Scraping a nail down the seam of his shorts, I began tracing the outline of his impressive cock.
“Fuck it,” he mumbled, before he swerved toward the side of the road and braked hard. His eyes remained on the road but if they looked at me, they would have seen the way my jaw fell open and my legs parted of their own accord. This was a Corbin I wasn’t used to. Assertive in the most alluring of ways and even with the air conditioner currently blowing through the cab, I was sweating.
We were just off the road and parked on a stretch of land which overlooked the ocean. The area between here and the highway meant we had enough privacy to do whatever we wanted, not that I cared. He flung his door open and before I had time to do anything other than unbuckle my belt, he was beside me, reefing my door open and pulling me from the truck. He moved with purpose, bringing me around and practically throwing me onto the open tray of his truck.
Our breaths were heavy, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as mine as we stared at each other for a split second before we both lunged in an apocalyptic moment I would never forget.
The moment you realise your entire life is about to change and even if you wanted to stop you couldn’t because you’re driven by something beyond your control. Something planned by a force greater than you.
I traced the light stubble of his cheeks, raking my nails down his back. The cool metal underneath me provided a gentle relief to the heat we were creating. He left a trail of kisses down my neck before he took a step back, reaching for the top of my dress. Tipping back, I caught myself with my hands behind me, silently begging him to touch my body. Instead, he ripped through the buttons in one fluid motion, leaving me breathless. It was chaotic and it was gorgeous.
“Precise,” I commended breathlessly.
“Fuckkk,” he whispered, appraising my now naked form.
“Shel,” he pleaded, trailing a finger down my chest and stopping just before the apex of my thighs where I knew he would find me a mess. A mess for him.
“Please,” he begged, sounding pained as if I was going to be the one to stop this. As if I wanted him to stop. And wanting nothing more than for him to bring me to my knees, I spread my legs a little wider, an invitation of my own.
The air between us thickened, his eyes lingering on my pussy before he surrounded me again, crashing my lips under his own. His hands moved down my neck and over my bare skin which immediately erupted into goosebumps despite the warm night air. Unknowingly, I began shuffling forward, desperate to wrap my legs around him and garner some kind of friction against my swollen, hungry core.
