I set the dish down, but she stops me.
“Don’t forget the cherry,” she says.
I reach up and swipe the jar from the counter. With a shaky hand, I carefully set a maraschino cherry on the tiny mound of vanilla and chocolate. And then I lean over to hit record on my phone, which is set up a few feet away from us.
I don’t say another word. My gaze connects with Becca’s. With our eyes locked, I lean my face down to her waist. I lap up the ice cream in a single lick. But with even just that one swipe of my tongue, I take my time. I let my tongue linger for a couple of seconds, savoring the taste of the ice cream and Becca’s skin.
She’s sweet, just like I knew she would be. Not as sweet as the ice cream or the fudge or the cherry, but better. Different. She’s soft and smooth, and there’s a hint of salt on her skin, likely her sweat from earlier in the day, and fucking hell, even that tastes good.
So fucking good.
I feel a surge of pressure in my cock.
Fuuuuuck. Barely two seconds of my mouth on her stomach has me hard.
I lean up, swallow the ice cream, and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. And then I dig my knuckles into the top of my thigh, the piercing pain a welcome distraction from the bastard in my jeans aching to get hard.
My gaze is still glued to Becca’s. I can’t look away, even if I wanted to. Even if someone offered me a hundred grand to look anywhere else, I couldn’t. The sight in front of me is too perfect, too beautiful. Becca’s eyes are wide and unblinking, her cheeks are rosy, and her chest is flushed, heaving up and down at what just happened—at what we’ve done.
Several seconds pass where we don’t say a word. We just sit there, staring at each other, the sound of our shallow breaths the only noise between us.
And then she runs her tongue along her bottom lip. “How was it?”
I almost laugh.
Fucking incredible…Did you know you taste like candy? One lick of your skin, Becca, and I know without a doubt, you’re the taste I’ll crave forever…
I don’t say any of that though, because I’m pretty sure I’d come off like a psycho.
“It was good,” I say instead, my voice barely above a grunt.
“That’s…good,” she says through a breathy voice. She blinks a couple times, her gaze turning more focused. “You, um, have something. On your lip.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. She shakes her head, stammering as she gestures to my face.
And then she sits up, putting our faces so close, we’re almost touching noses. She wipes her thumb just under my bottom lip.
“You had some chocolate,” she whispers.
“Thanks.” I sound like I’m being strangled, but really, I’m just trying not to sound like a demon with the way that my insides are going haywire at Becca’s touch.
A beat later her gaze falls to my lips. And then I know. We’re going to kiss.
I lean even closer, my mouth hovering over hers. We’re not touching yet, but I can feel her somehow. I can feel her breath on me, I can feel just how soft she is, how sweet she tastes.
And then my fucking phone rings.
We jerk apart. I land on my ass, then scramble up and grab my phone off the tripod. It’s then that I realize the video is still recording so I quickly hit “stop,” and then answer.
“Hey. It’s me.”
I bite back a curse. Of all the times for my older brother to call me.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he mutters.
I’m about to say that actually, yes, he’s interrupting something really fucking important, but he speaks first.
“About the other day when I mentioned Dad. That was out of line. I was an insensitive dick. I’m sorry, man.”
