“I just… I wantthat,” she murmurs, not taking her eyes off the screen. “All of it. I want to get my brains fucked out against a shower wall while a guy looks at me just like that. Like I’m the hottest thing he’s ever freaking seen.”
Fucking hell.
I wet my lips, then I force down a swallow, nearly bloodysweatingat her statement. My hands tighten into fists at my sides with the overwhelming need to reach for her.
To give her exactly what she wants.
She turns to look at me, and those rich chocolate eyes are molten, burning hotter than I’ve ever seen them before. “I think maybe that’s what I need to do. You know just… practice”—her gaze flicks to the TV for a beat, then back—“that.”
“Then… practice withme.” The words come flying out of my mouth before I can even bloody think about exactly what I’m offering.
I’m out of my goddamn mind, and I should get the fuck up and walk away right now, if I knew what was good for me.
But fucking hell, I want to kiss her.
Until her lips are swollen and bruised. Until she’s squirming beneath me, pressing her thighs together and begging me to touch her.
Ineedto kiss her. I’m so bloody fucking tired of denying it.
I watch her throat bob, her gaze never moving from mine as she nods, her shoulder dipping. “Yeah, totally. I mean, that would be the easy thing to do, right? You’re already teaching me, and it would prepare me for when the time comes.”
I don’t even want to fucking think about her kissing someone else. Fuck that.
My chin lifts anyway, saying nothing as I let my gaze drop to her parted lips, lingering there.
I’ve never seen prettier lips in my life.
“I can teach you whatever you want to learn, St. James.”
When she licks her lips, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet them before sinking her teeth into her lower lip, it’s like something snaps within me, and I’m closing the distance between us. She leans forward at the same time, making us collide.
My lips slam against hers and she whimpers, the sweetest fucking sound that’s a mixture of surprise and need, and I decide I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes to hear it again.
Over and over.
I don’t give myself the chance to second-guess the decision, or to worry about what the consequences may be.
Fuck it. Fuck the consequences. Fuck anything besides this. Right now.
My hands slide into her still-damp hair, curving around her nape as I tug her closer, angling her mouth to deepen the kiss when she scrambles into my lap, thighs fitted around each side of my hips. Her lips part, and my tongue sweeps inside as her hands snake around my neck, tugging roughly at my hair. The needy little sounds she makes shoot straight to my cock, making me so bloody hard it aches.
Christ, when’s the last time I was so turned on by a fuckingkiss?
I can’t recall a time when I was this keyed up over something so simple.
Yet with her… it doesn’t feel simple.
It feels like we’re teetering on the edge of something. Something bigger than either of us imagined.
Her hips roll over my erection, and I groan against her mouth, my teeth grazing her plump lip. I’m about to slip my hand beneath her shirt when my phone goes off in my pocket. The obnoxious ringtone makes my teeth grit.
“Fuck,” I mutter, tearing my lips from Rory’s. She hovers above me, staring down at me with blown pupils and swollen lips that send a surge of possessiveness coursing through me.
I did that.
For a moment we just stare at each other, a heated exchange of shared pants. We stay like that, savoring the seconds that seem to drag by.
She looks like she’s had the fuck kissed out of her, and if it wasn’t for my ringing phone, I would keep going until the rest of her was marked by my lips.
