tiptoes trying to get closer. His lips coax mine apart and he sucks gently at my bottom lip and I think I might very possibly die. Likely because I've forgotten to breathe. I suck in a breath and he repositions the angle, sliding his tongue into my mouth, and my heart nearly stops. Because it's good. It's perfect. This is the perfect kiss.
Grouchy Nick knows how to kiss. Knows exactly how to touch me to drive me wild. One hand cups the back of my neck, his fingers winding into the hair at my nape. The sensation puts every nerve ending on my body into high alert, wanting more. Wanting those warm fingers to caress every inch of me. He works the other hand under the hem of my jacket, slipping under my shirt just enough to touch a sliver of skin on my hip above the waistband of my jeans.
It's an innocent enough touch as touches go, but it doesn't make me feel innocent. It makes me feel wanton and reckless. It makes me feel as if all of this is a very good idea. More lips, more tongue, more touching. More Nick. My hands slide up his chest and wrap themselves around his neck. My leg wraps around his thigh as if I've no control over my own limbs. As if I'm attempting to climb him with the same curiosity and enthusiasm as a kitten climbing a Christmas tree.
Probably because I am.
I might even be willing to meow.
Nick meanwhile is as calm as a priest at midnight mass. I'm frantic and needy and gluttonous while he's the picture of self-control and restraint.
Except.
I can feel that he's not immune.
He's significantly not immune, if you get my drift.
The opposite of elf-sized.
I hum into his mouth and flex my hips against his leg. A moment later his hand is on my ass, supporting my weight as I attempt to dry-hump him in a church.
Oh, God.
Literally.
I'm making out with my hot boss in a church.
I pull back and blink, trying to clear my thoughts. Trying to understand how I got here. Nick dips his mouth to the side of my neck, pressing a trail of warm kisses along my skin as he loosens the leg wrapped around his waist and ensures I'm standing on two feet before he lets me go.
"Why did you do that? Why did you kiss me?" I'm breathing hard and leaning against the banister for support. Hot and bothered doesn't begin to describe my state of being at present.
"Because I wanted to." Not even a flinch. His voice is smooth and steady, his eyes not leaving mine. He runs two fingers over his bottom lip and it's all I can do not to tug him back to me. The tone of his voice sounds like every filthy thought I've ever had coated in a candy-cane sugar glaze.
"How come you've never done it before?"
My voice isn't smooth. It's distressed. Breathy. Needy.
He smiles at that. A wide grin that threatens to send my fingers straight to the button on his jeans. "Because you hate me."
"I don't always hate you," I object. It's true. It’s more of an eighty-twenty split between hate and lust. Eighty percent lust, obviously.
"That's good to know. Do you hate me right now?" He looks oddly… vulnerable? What is even happening right now? I feel as if the world is tilting beneath my feet.
"Not so much, no." I shake my head, confused. Yet not. I'm a mess.
"Good to know." He dips his head towards mine again but I put a hand on his chest, stopping him.
"Nick, what about Taryn?"
"Taryn?" He frowns, clearly confused by both the interruption and the question.
"You're not dating her?"
"No, we're just friends."
I think about that for a moment, contemplating all the meanings of ‘friends.’ "Are you naked friends?" I press.
He shakes his head, seemingly amused with my description. "Fully clothed friends."
"Okay." I nod, leaning in toward him then stopping myself before our lips touch again. "I broke up with Santana." I say it without a hint of irony then fist my fingers into Nick's jacket to tug him closer.
"Glad to hear it." Nick smiles, his lips brushing against mine in a whisper. There's something about the hover of his lips over mine that makes my heart stop. That makes me wet in the place I want him most. That makes my heart beat in anticipation and sets loose a gaggle of butterflies in my stomach.
"How long have you wanted to kiss me?" I