I flip him off, pushing my hair back and heading into the corridor towards the bathroom. I click the lock behind me and lean heavily against the door, breathing deeply.
He was only joking, but the embarrassing thing is, I really do need to calm myself down. I glance at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, almost scared of what I’ll see.
It’s just as I suspected.
My cheeks are pink. My eyes are bright. My hair is ruffled from his fingers. When I clench my fists, my fingers stick together with sweat. I groan inwardly, closing my eyes.
For the first time, I understand what all of the hype over kissing is about. I feel like I’m on fire.
I run the cold tap and splash some water onto my cheeks and neck, rubbing it into the hollow of my throat. I don’t know what’s happening.
But I like it.
When I’ve pulled myself together, I fix my hair and step back into the corridor — and immediately slam face-first into a wall of fabric-covered muscle.
“Listening to me pee, Josh?” I ask mildly, stepping back. “So that’s your kink.”
He doesn’t say anything. I try to walk past him, but he blocks my way with his massive body. He’s watching me coolly, his dark eyes intense.
“Can I help you?” I ask politely.
“I was just thinking.”
“Congratulations! Your listeners will be so happy they took a chance on your show.” I try to move past him.
He takes a step forward, crowding me against the wall, and bends so his face is right by mine. I breathe in the cool scent of him. He smells like sweet mints. My mouth starts to water.
“It occurred to me,” he says slowly, “that a data set of one is completely useless.”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “What are you implying?”
Slowly, he reaches down and touches the neckline of my top. It’s slipped down a little, and he fixes the fabric back into place, nudging his favourite little ribbon with the side of his thumb. “You’re my girlfriend too, aren’t you?”
“For educational purposes, yes.”
His normally distant eyes are hot and stormy. “What do you think? Will you lose your mind if you kiss me?”
For a moment, I’m shocked speechless. That was the last thing I expected him to say. My silence stretches on too long, and his face shuts down. He pulls back. “I’m sorry. This was—”
I cut him off. “You can kiss me,” I blurt out. “If you want.”
His lips turn up slightly. I notice that he has a dimple on his cheek. Not a full one, but a tiny little divot I’ve never seen before. Then again, I’ve probably only seen Josh smile twice before, so that’s hardly surprising.
He lifts his hand, cupping the back of my neck. I shiver as I feel his fingers twisting through my hair. “Yes?” He murmurs.
My stomach crunches with nerves. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and nod, tilting my mouth up to his.
While Zack’s kisses were hot and full of lips and teeth and energy, Josh’s kisses are soft and slow and drugging. His lips press against mine in deep, long, smooth strokes, draining all of the energy out of my body until my knees are weak. I feel hot and soothed and aroused all at the same time. He gives me three long, slow pecks, then just stays there for a few seconds, his lips soft and parted against mine, breathing slowly like he doesn’t want to pull away.
“Well?” I ask, breathless.
He clears his throat, finally straightening. “Well, what?”
“What would you rate me?”
He tugs at his hair. He looks like he’s trying not to smile. “You are so odd, Layla Thompson.”
“I need to put it in my spreadsheet,” I insist. “So I can see how I improve over time. Maybe I should chart a graph. It’s difficult to quantify kissing skill, but—”
He makes a low, helpless sound in his chest and kisses me again. This time, the kiss is hard and rough. He pushes me backwards, his heavy body pressing mine to the wall. Grinning, I trail my mouth down his throat, pressing a kiss to his Adam’s apple. His whole body flinches. I pause, then kiss his neck again.
He shudders in a breath. “Layla—” he groans, tensing against me. “Shit.”
A smile spreads over my face. It looks like Joshua Tran has a weak spot.
I suck his throat hard, getting the sensitive skin of his pulse between my teeth. He moans, actually moans in my ear, his mouth falling open against my cheek. “Jesus,” he mutters, his body sagging over mine. “Jesus — Christ.” He grabs my chin and forces my mouth back to his, kissing me hard.