She stood at the foot of her bed as Ava leaned back against the door with her hands behind her and leveled a look at her that was heavy and hot. Regan felt her heart rate kick up. She swallowed.
Ava inhaled audibly, a large breath, and let it go slowly, continuing to hold her gaze.
Regan knew she’d look for things to blame later. The stress of the day. The drinks. Ava’s goddamn sexy flirting. Whatever it was going to be didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was Ava’s eyes, Ava’s mouth, Ava’s body standing there waiting for her to make a move.
So she did.
Not allowing herself to debate for one second, she crossed the room, took Ava’s face in both hands, and kissed her.
Her first thought was of relief, and that told her she’d actually been waiting to kiss Ava for longer than she’d realized. No. That was a lie. For longer than she was ready to admit.
Her second thought was of softness. Everything about Ava was so soft: her lips, her skin, her body as Regan pressed against it, hips pushing into hips.
Ava tasted sweet, remnants of rum and cola still clinging to her tongue, which Regan now touched with her own, just a hint, just a tease, before she felt Ava’s hands on her waist, pulling her closer, before she felt Ava’s tongue push into her mouth, before she let go of an erotic moan that she didn’t recognize as a sound she’d ever made before.
A slight pull back, because she needed to look, needed to see where Ava’s thoughts were, how she was doing with all of this. Her lips still lingered mere millimeters from Ava’s, but she could see her, thehooded sensuality of her dark, dark eyes, the slightly swollen lips, the flushed cheeks. Ava’s fingers dug into her sides, as if she was afraid of what would happen if she let go.
So Regan kissed her some more.
Time seemed to stop. It was so horrendously clichéd, that phrase, Regan almost laughed out loud when the thought hit. Except it was true. She had no idea how long they’d been kissing, what time it was, what day it was, which planet she was on. All she knew was Ava. Her hands. Her mouth. And the soft sounds of ragged breathing and lips as they kissed.
The next time they came up for air, Ava took her hand and led her to her bed, and when she turned to face Regan, she raised her brows in question.
As a response, Regan leaned in for another kiss and pushed until Ava sat, then lay back on the mattress. Regan balanced above her on her hands and knees and took a moment to take her in, to just look, to memorize the moment, to capture the look on Ava’s gorgeous face.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.
Ava’s smile had a bashful quality to it—not a word she’d ever thought of using in relation to Ava—as if she didn’t hear those words often, and she reached up to run her fingertips across Regan’s bottom lip. Then she grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her back to her mouth.
The kissing.
God, the kissing!
It was something she could do with Ava forever, of that she was certain. They kissed and kissed, jockeyed for position. Ava rolled them so she was on top—which was a whole new level of erotic for Regan—until Regan rolled them again and reclaimed control.
Did time stop again? Had it screeched to a halt? It sure seemed like it. She pulled herself up so she could look at Ava once more. Both of them were breathless. Ava’s eyes were still hooded, her eyes nearly black, her cheeks a lovely pink. She wet her lips before she spoke.
“Are you okay if we stop?” Ava asked on a whisper.
“Oh, of course.” Regan nodded and rolled to her side.
Ava grasped her arm. “It’s not that I want to stop—I kinda don’t. But I think we should.”
Regan didn’t want to stop either but had to agree. She nodded again. “No, I get it.”
They were quiet for a moment before Ava pointed to the pillows. “Do you want to, um, stay here? With me?”
“I mean, it’s a pretty long commute,” Regan said, glancing across the room at her own bed as she propped up on an elbow.
Ava laughed, and it transformed her entire face—hell, it transformed the entireroom—making Regan realize how rare it was to hear that sound. She tipped her head, wanting to ask why Ava laughed so rarely but also not wanting to spoil what was a pretty amazing moment with something that might be taken as critical.
“Oh, she’s a comedian now,” Ava said, giving her a playful shove. Then she pushed to her feet.
“Always have been,” Regan said. “Just ask my parents.”
Ava kicked off her shoes and then pulled her shirt over her head and off, causing Regan’s voice to stick in her throat. Ava stood there in jeans, bare feet, a navy-blue bra, and nothing else. The expression on her face said she knew exactly what the view was doing to Regan. “I’m gonna get changed. Be right back.” Then she grabbed her pajamas out of a drawer and went into the bathroom, and the door clicked shut behind her.
Regan blew out a loud breath and fell face-first onto the pillow.
