leaning down, me rising up, and our lips meeting in the middle. God, I want that. I really want that, and by the way he keeps looking at my lips, I feel like he wants that too.
“I guess this is goodnight,” I said softly, my voice having this sensualness to it. Even I heard it, but I couldn’t care enough to worry about it. I didn’t care how desperate it sounded.
His gaze went from my eyes back to my lips. His body was so big that it was impossible not to take notice I was tiny in comparison. I was soft where he was muscular. I was curvy where he was rock-hard.
“I’d really like to see you again,” he said, lifting his eyes to mine. “How would you feel about that?”
I nodded, because yeah, that was exactly what I wanted.
“You would like that?” he murmured, eyes right back on my mouth. I felt his gaze and licked my lips as they tingled from the weight of his stare.
I nodded again, unable to find my voice.
He took a step closer, sliding the hand that held mine over my wrist, along my forearm, and let go of me for only a second to curl those big fingers along my hip. “Is this okay?”
I swallowed and nodded. It’s more than okay.
He groaned softly, his fingers tightening for just a second before they relaxed again. “Then tell me you want to see me again, Amelia.” His voice was deceptively soft, but I heard the roughness in it. “I need to hear you say it.” He took another step closer, our chests brushing together.
I sucked in a breath. Could he feel my heart beating hard against my ribs? Our chests were pressed right together, so how couldn’t he?
Could he feel how hard my nipples were as they stabbed through the material of my shirt? They ached and were so sensitive. Too sensitive.
“I want to see you again.” My voice was so breathy, but I didn’t care. Let him know how he affected me. I wanted him to see it and feel it, just like I knew how much I affected him.
His chest was moving harder and faster after I said those words, his jaw clenched as if he ground his teeth.
The silence stretched between us, but I liked it. It was heated and thick, our combined desire mixing together to create this massive black hole that threatened to suck us both in.
“I want to kiss you so fucking badly,” Braxton murmured, and I watched as his eyes widened for a second before he snapped his gaze up to mine. “I didn’t mean to curse. I’m sorry. Shit.” He shook his head. “Fuck.” I felt a wave of emotion wash over me. “I’m sorry. I’m screwing this up.”
I felt something rise up in me before snapping. It was courage, the kind that had me feeling powerful enough to do something I’d never done before—to take control of a situation and go after what I wanted.
I braced my hands on his chest, felt his pectoral muscles through his T-shirt, and inhaled deeply. His lips partly slightly. I watched his pupils dilate as he focused on my mouth, and I knew there was no going back. I didn't want to. I only wanted to move forward fast and hard and never worry about anything I did with Braxton.
He smelled fresh and clean, the cologne he wore making me feel dizzy. My body tingled, made me even needier in my desire for Braxton. I couldn’t breathe for how intoxicated I felt.
Our mouths were so close together, only a small inch separating us from the kiss I wanted so badly. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for so long, I thought, too afraid to say the words, even though I knew he’d welcome them.
And then I rose on my toes that last inch and kissed him, taking that control and surprising both of us. I heard his gasp then groan against my mouth, and for a millisecond, he was solid and tense against me. But just as I was about to pull away, he wound his hand behind my head, tangling it in my hair, and tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
It was my turn to gasp now, the dominance slowly coming from him with each passing second. I felt it in the way his mouth moved against mine, in the way he gently stroked his tongue along the seam of my lips before adding more pressure, telling me