I nod. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she counters. “Is it a full kiss?”
“Tylar said ‘make out with Stacey’。”
I want to move the strand of hair from her face, but I fist my hands instead.
“Don’t laugh,” she says, chewing on her lip, “but I haven’t done this before.”
I inwardly sigh in relief, inching my body forward until our knees touch. “Neither have I.” Stacey’s gaze widens, but I continue before she can talk. “Just close your eyes.”
“Don’t lie to make me feel better. We all know about your reputation.”
I narrow my eyes. “Meaning?”
She raises a shoulder. “You know what I mean.” Then she shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Any reputation I have like that is a lie,” I say, turning the setting of the torch to a soft glow. “A lot of people talk shit about me to get themselves seen or to get a story. I’m in the same boat as you here. Okay?”
She swallows, and I watch her throat move. “Okay,” she quietly responds.
“Close your eyes and stop being nervous,” I say as my entire body fights a tremble.
Her eyelids close, dark lashes, thick and long, settling under her eyes on the soft skin. “Don’t laugh if I do it wrong.”
For a second, I look at her, as if I haven’t a million times already, allowing myself to study each freckle close up, her perfect cheekbones, the way her dark hair curls around her face and cascades around her. She licks her lips, and my eyes are drawn to the act. They’re naturally plump, a deep shade of pink, and she always bites the bottom one.
My breaths are heavy through my nostrils as I lean forward, closing my own eyes. Heart racing to a dangerous rate, my nose glides against the side of hers until our lips are aligned, and I hesitate.
I’m going to fuck this up. Heat is radiating around us, and I can’t fucking breathe. There’s a pain building in my chest.
Panic slams into me, and I ease back an inch, about to tell her we’ll just pretend to everyone. But Stacey pushes forward and presses her lips to mine, and the world stands still, time halting. “Broken” by Lovelytheband fades, and so do the giggles and chatter of the group nearby, until it’s just me and Stacey.
Her palms slide up my chest to rest on my shoulders, and I bristle from the touch, unsure how I feel about it. She notices the way I freeze mid-kiss and removes her hands. “Sorry if I…”
I grab her before she can shy away, pull her back to me and reciprocate the kiss. It’s firm yet gentle, and as I go in for a second, more relaxed kiss, her tight grip returns on my shoulders.
I’ve wanted to do this since I was fifteen but never had the balls to approach her. As hot as she is, she’s terrifying when it comes to cursing me out. In all honesty, I think she’d run in the opposite direction if this wasn’t a dare.
The thought annoys me.
We tilt our heads in sync, and the kiss deepens to a point that I suddenly need to part my lips and taste her tongue, to touch her with my hands, to discover how delicate her face feels under my palms, but I don’t want to scare her off. Instead, I kiss her bottom lip, then the top, sucking lightly each time. She bunches the material of my top into her fists.
I don’t like touch. It makes me feel uneasy, but my hand has a mind of its own as I feel the sharpness of her jawline, gliding my fingers up until they’re brushing into her thick hair.
Stacey shivers in my hold, and I want her to do it again, to show that she can react to me. It’s addictive.
She drags my bottom lip between her teeth, sending blood to my cock.
My thumb strokes the soft skin under her eye, and just as both of our lips part, and I feel the heat from our mouths and tongues, Base – the dick – calls out, “Time’s up!”
Neither of us stop. Stacey moves her hands to both sides of my face and kisses me harder, coming closer until my fingers curl at her nape. A tingling sensation shoots to my chest and triggers something animalistic in me. She whimpers as I possessively snake my arm around the small of her back and pull her to me.
“Keep going,” she orders, panting against my mouth, and I nod, breathing heavily.
She’s so warm and comfortable. No bad thoughts are running rampant in my mind, telling me to get away from her .
Everything is calm. Everything is quiet. Everything is okay.
The tip of my tongue darts against hers, and I groan accidentally, yanking her even closer as her legs part around my knees so she’s nearly in my lap. She tastes just as I expected. Sweet and fruity, with a hint of mint to cover the smoke she has now and again. Stacey Rhodes tastes fucking divine. Addictive.
I eliminate any space between us until she’s sitting on me, causing heat to build at the base of my spine. Harder than a rock, I try to keep her at a safe distance, so I don’t freak her out.
Her fingers bury into my hair, tugging it as her tongue moves against mine. She’s devouring me, and I’m letting her. Hungrily, we swallow each sigh we drop, and I’m getting fucking harder. Especially when she brackets her hips at my waist.
I can feel her smile against my mouth.
And then… butterflies. I have fucking butterflies while kissing someone. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Hey,” Base says, hitting the fabric of the tent. “Will we keep playing without you?”
Stacey pulls away first, falling from my lap, and I’m certain I hear her squeak. “Oh shit,” she mutters. “We’re coming!”
“Too much info, Rhodes.”
From what I can see, her pupils are dilated, her cheeks flushed, and her chest is rising and falling uncontrollably.
I want to kiss her again, but as she gets to her feet and hurries out without giving me any words, the bubble bursts, and the moment is gone.
9
KADE
My phone rings, pulling me out of the dream I wish I could erase from my memory. As much as reliving that night makes me want to smash everything in the room, it keeps me grounded when I’m in positions like I am now.
My mind always goes back to her when I lose control, blacking out, and when my body betrays me. Memories play out like fucking nightmares, mocking me for what we had and what she destroyed.
My phone rings again, my sister’s name flashing up on the screen.
Shit.
I untangle myself from two sets of arms and legs, naked and slick with sweat and God knows what else. Bernadette groans, but instead of waking and yelling at me to go back to sleep, she reaches for… whatever her name is and cuddles into her tits like they’re cushions.
Messages fill my screen, from Luciella and my mum. I have fifteen missed calls.
Luciella: Where the fuck are you? We leave for the airport in an hour!
Luciella: Base is here, and he said he hasn’t heard from you. If you don’t get home soon, I will leave without you!
Luciella: Answer the phone, you dickhead!
Mum: Your dad is happy you’re joining us; he hasn’t stopped smiling. This means a lot to him, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re putting aside everything that’s happened and coming to visit. I’ll see you soon.
Not going to lie, the last one hurt. Our last encounter ended with me flipping a table and storming out of the meeting area after him bringing up Stacey and our split.