She’s almost as sexy when she’s not sassing me as when she’s telling me to fuck off. Although I have to admit, her scrappy attitude gives my self-control more of a challenge than most guys in the fucking ring.
The temptation to glide my hand up to the center of her back and pull on the string of her bikini, then continue to the one tied at the base of her neck and tug that one loose, is overpowering. But I manage to control myself. Most girls would be begging me to strip them down. Not my little Ninja.
She’s been in my grasp for less than a minute, but it’s like time has stopped. I glide my lips from her ear around to her cheek, grazing her smooth cheek, stopping only a breath away from her mouth. Her eyes are a convoluted mystery I can’t read. Her hands grip my arms tightly, but she isn’t pushing me away, and I have no idea why. I thought I would have gotten kneed in the balls by now. I thrive on control, but with her so close, that control is slipping.
Lightning strikes. A current of electricity rips through the small space. There’s only a sliver of space between our lips.
Unable to stop myself, I press my mouth to hers. The rain pounds against the shutters, mimicking my heart's beat in my chest. Her lips are soft and full and maddeningly still.
She doesn’t kiss me back. I can tell she wants to by the way her back arches, pressing her body against mine. The exhale of her breath lets me know she’s made her decision.
Her hands slide down my arms and drop to her sides. I raise my head. Her eyes search my face in the dark, landing on mine.
“You don’t get to touch me,” she says. There’s no anger or distress in her tone. She simply states the exact opposite of what I want to hear and what her body is begging for.
Then she gently pushes me out of the way. I don’t fight her. She whips open the door.
“Where are you going, little Ninja?”
Her heated glare sears into me. The wind tears the loose band out of her hair, freeing it to whip around her. Rain plasters the long, dark stands to her face.“Home.”
The storm is one of the worst we’ve had in a while, but it doesn’t stop her as she runs directly into it. Black waves crash angrily against the shore. Thunder cracks as lightning streaks across the sky. Through the thrashing storm, her form gets smaller and smaller the farther she moves away. I stand at the top of the ramp, watching her race down the beach. Lightning strikes down, silhouetting her body in a path of wicked white light.
Then she’s gone.
I slam my fist against the wooden wall of the shack and roar into the storm. “Fuck!”
14
KINSLEY
Rain pelts my skin.Each droplet feels like a needle stinging my flesh. But somehow, the pain reassures me that I’m still here. For that small moment, I was lost to him. Even though it was brief, it happened.Ilet it happen.
I let him touch me.
I let him kiss me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Bolts of jagged white light streak around me. The chaotic ocean carries angry waves crashing against the shore. In bare feet, I make a run for home and don’t stop until I burst through the door. My uncle is asleep on the couch and doesn’t stir. I head straight for my room to take a hot shower and try to process what in the actual fuck just happened. Or try to forget.
I turn the shower handle to hot. Steam floats around me, warming my freezing skin. Stripping off my wet clothes, I pile them on the tile floor. Still trying to catch my breath, I turn the lever to the center. The water cools just enough that the heat is bearable. I stand under the stream, begging it to wash away more than the sand caking my feet. I want it to erase the past twenty minutes of my life.
Fucking Edge!
I’m just as furious at him as I am at myself. He put me in a vulnerable position. He made me want him. That, more than anything, I hate admitting to myself.
I should have done something to avoid the entire situation—brought my leg around the back of his, then tossed his ass to the floor, or brought up my hands to block his contact. Anything! But I just stood there and let him touch, kiss, and feel me.
Soaping my loofah, I scrub everywhere he touched me: my waist, my neck, my lips, scouring my skin until it’s pink and raw. After adjusting the water to a cooler temperature, I slide down the slick wall to the floor. Water cascades down over my head. My black hair falls around my face, hiding my shame from no one.
Hell, he was just fucking Brielle a few days ago, and then I let him kiss me? What the fuck is wrong with me? What was I thinking? Easy...I wasn’t.
The worst part is I can still feel his body pressed against mine.
The best part is I can still feel his body pressed against mine.
No amount of water or soap can ever wash those feelings away.
