She was pissed off, but she was so happy he was okay. Ever since she’d heard the words firefighter injured, she’d battled images of Graham coming through the ER doors on a stretcher. She was mentally and emotionally spent and had very little filter left, in voice or action.
She would later blame her state of mind on what happened next as she lurched forward, grabbed his rough cheeks between her palms, and kissed him.
Graham sucked in a sharp breath and froze, his body going taut. She pulled back, the separation of their lips sending a faint wet sound echoing in the silence. Before she could fully process what she’d done and take it back, claiming momentary insanity, his face came into focus.
All awareness slipped away with her surprised exhale.
The way Graham was looking at her…
His ever-smiling mouth was slack and devoid of the quick, sarcastic words she’d come to expect. His pupils dilated and his usually playful eyes were dark and ominous.
Her heart pounded as his gaze dragged down her face, from her eyes to her lips, where they lingered for a long moment before slowly scrolling back up. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he stared at her, brow furrowed, as if seeing her for the first time.
Time stopped as they stood inches apart, his breath warm against her lips, chest brushing hers with each inhale. Heat rippled through her as she felt want rolling off him in thick waves.
Just when she’d decided she had to say or do something, Graham leaped into action. His mouth came back to hers, warm and hard and unyielding. His hands were in her hair, and his strong fingers threading between the strands sent a shiver racing down her spine. She gripped his shirt in her fists and pulled him along as she stumbled backward. She stopped when she hit the dresser and his body molded to hers, as if he couldn’t get close enough. Yes, closer. Something fell and hit the floor with a crash, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
Exactly like she’d pictured them in the hospital supply closet scenario, damn him.
She definitely liked what he was doing and must have made some enthusiastic moan or murmur or something, because he hummed against her lips and slid one hand in the small space between the drawers and her lower back, arching her hips into him.
Her body threw caution to the wind and chose to ignore that which had just been discussed: Graham was her roommate, whom she decidedly did not care about.
Definitely not a lot.
He had great lips, though. She’d always loved his smile—one of those ridiculously wide ones that was nearly impossible not to respond to. Channeled James Marsden in The Notebook or 27 Dresses.
As it turned out, smiling wasn’t all his mouth was good for.
The man knew how to use it, and she melted against him with each passing second. Any moment now she’d come to her senses and push him away. Maybe slap him just to be contrary, even though she’d started it. But then his tongue slid across her lower lip and she trembled, opening her mouth and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Later. She’d put a stop to this later.
She bit at his lower lip and he growled into her mouth, grabbing her hips and lifting her onto the dresser. Of their own accord her legs cinched around his waist, pulling him closer. Shit, he smelled good. Like the outdoors and some manly bodywash.
Did he always smell like this? She hadn’t been in this position before to notice. As in literally up against him, his tongue moving with hers and his body between her thighs.
Damn, those lips were really, really good. His chest pressed against hers as he ravaged her mouth like he was an addict and she was his drug of choice. Her brain had short-circuited and her pulse spiraled out of control. What were her hands doing? Shit, was that his ass （correction: firm ass） underneath her palm?
A rumble vibrated deep in his chest and he shifted his pelvis.
When she felt how turned on he was, awareness shot through her and she opened her eyes to find him looking back at her, irises black. For a long second they didn’t move, lips still pressed together, gazes locked. It was too much, but she wasn’t ready to stop, so she reached up and put one hand over his eyes.
He laughed against her mouth and pulled back, gently pulling her hand down. His chest heaved with exertion, and his voice held a trace of amusement. “What the hell are you doing?”
She swallowed and reached for her voice. “Is that about me kissing you, or me not wanting you to look at me while we do it?”
His eyes went wide. “Damn, are we about to do it?” He nodded enthusiastically and kept one hand wrapped around her thigh as he reached sideways to swing his door shut.