“You can’t call dibs on people. You sound like a B-list rom-com.”
“But I fuck like an A-list porno.”
Okay then. Who says romance is dead? My throat tightens as his eyes lower, taking me in. He closes the space between us.
A hand tugs my head toward him. Our lips meet. But unlike our first kiss, this one demands. Noah takes everything from me all at once, his lips brushing against mine, intense and irresistible. This somehow beats our first kiss. We have no one around to stop us, no interruptions to pull us away from each other this time.
One of his hands grips my hair and tugs. The quick bite of pain makes me gasp, giving his tongue access to my mouth. It strokes mine possessively, branding me, not giving me a second to overthink anything. My tongue meets his and strokes back. I want to taste him and make him crave me just as much.
My fingers run through his hair and he groans when I grip the silky strands. I want to pull him in closer, desperate for what he can give me. My body hums with approval as he fucks with my brain and heart at once.
If this was a movie, now would be the moment for cheesy fireworks to go off in the background.
My back hits the blanket and my hands travel across his chest, checking out the different muscles. He doesn’t let up on his own exploration, his hands roaming down my body while our tongues stroke one another. I feel lightheaded from the contact.
I moan when he cups my breasts. My nipples brush against the fabric of my bra, wishing for the barrier to be gone, another obstacle we don’t need. My body pushes into his, frantic for more.
His mouth leaves mine. Rough fingers find the hem of my shirt at the same time his lips find my neck. The nipping, licking, and sucking sensations drive me crazy. His mouth does wild things to my body. Aroused doesn’t begin to describe the intense burn inside of me as my breasts grow heavy with need and my core throbs.
I rub myself against his hardened length. My jeans feel rough against my thong, temporary friction giving me some relief. Fingers clutch the hard muscles of his back before my nails scratch against the fabric of his shirt.
“You’re going to make me embarrass myself if you keep grinding against my cock,” he mumbles before returning his attention to my neck. His lips move toward my chest. A new task.
My cheeks heat at his disclosure. But it feels great to make him desire me because this man makes me feel a whole lot of things. The good, the bad, and the absolute dirtiest.
“Don’t get shy on me now. Fuck that.” His lips meet mine again, this time with a soft and intimate kiss. I find myself unprepared for any of these feelings, Noah overwhelming me. Kissing him feels like so much more.
I regain consciousness and place both of my hands on his chest, pushing him softly. He gets the hint and lifts off me.
“Ah, your brain caught up to you. It was fun while it lasted.” He rubs a thumb against my swollen lips.
“I don’t do this type of thing.” My hands gesture between the two of us.
“And what is that?” He inches closer again. I hold up a hand, making him pause. His lips distract me and make me want to kiss them again. But I need to get this out before it’s too late.
“This. I don’t do casual. Random hookups.” Hell no. Not after kisses that set me on fire and make my brain numb.
He abandons his seductive mood. His grimace makes me second-guess my reasoning, and for a brief moment, I’m afraid about making the wrong decision. I may be irresponsible with other things, but I need to lock my heart up around someone like him. Stay true to my values.
Noah is the type to unwillingly chip off pieces of my armor until I have nothing left. If his kisses make me mindless, I can’t imagine what other things with him will do to me. No one told me how much it sucks to be responsible and honest.
“Why not? We can call it quits when the season’s over. No harm done.”
I seriously doubt that because I can tell from a couple of kisses that’s not the case. It hurts to hear him be cavalier about it, but it’s not unexpected from someone like him.
His reaction gives me more strength about my decision.
“Uh. I don’t think that’s true. At least for me. I don’t want to catch feelings for someone who isn’t looking for a relationship. I’m not that type of girl, a no-strings-attached person.” I clasp my hands on my lap, preventing any fidgeting. I’ve only had a handful of exclusive boyfriends in my life.
“Feelings?” His voice gives away his aversion to the idea.
Note to self: he’s not a fan of that F word.
“Yes, feelings. People like you leave a trail of broken hearts behind. I don’t want to be one of them, another notch in your damaged bedpost.”