walked away earlier. This was one of my favorite tops for a reason. Figure-hugging to show off my boobs in the front and then when I walked away, it was feminine, pretty, and sexy all at the same time in the back.
“Whoops,” I said unabashedly. “I guess I’m in the wrong room.”
“Are you?” he asked with his brows raised.
“Maybe not.” I pressed my palms flat on either side of myself against the door.
He tossed his book to the floor and then he erased the space between us.
And my heart felt like it was about to fly up into the sky. Joy welled up inside me at the look on his face.
God, he was tall.
And oh my… he was looking at me with that warm expression.
He wasn’t touching me but there was barely any space between us.
We were alone, in his room, and not a soul knew I was here.
“What’re you doin’ here, Jojo?”
Direct eye contact from him was doing things to my tummy. The proximity to him? That was doing things to my underwear.
I shrugged. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Since Easter weekend when I first saw you.”
“Why?” His voice was husky. And now it was that other expression. The heated one. I could smell whisky on him, and it smelled good.
His eyes traveled my face. God, my heart was racing. It was going to leave my body in a second if he didn’t touch me.
“Something about you. Lots of things about you.”
His face went hard, and it hurt, physically. I decided to just go for it. I got up on my toes and put both hands to his jaw. His beard was soft. Softer than I imagined it’d be. I got as high as my toes would allow, and he met me halfway by lowering his head. His mouth met mine and the touch of his lips? Soft. Gentle. Sweet.
And then his tongue touched my lips.
I let out a needy-sounding whimper, feeling my breasts touch his body. The kiss then escalated when his tongue dipped in between my lips and touched mine. He let out a sexy sound that made goosebumps erupt everywhere on me. Both his hands were braced on the door on either side of my head.
I ran my hand up his warm muscled, smooth back. That was the wrong move, because then he suddenly pushed back with his hands and looked down at me while shaking his head, backing off.
“Fuck. No. Fuck!” He said this like something horrible had just happened.
He went to turn away, but I grabbed his hand and tried to tug him back. He pulled his large and warm hand away and gave me a dark look.
“Why?” I asked, my voice small, my insides feeling like they were shriveling up.
And then his mouth was on me again and his hands weren’t on the door; they were in my hair. And this wasn’t sweet. This was full of heat. Yes. Sweetbabyjesus, yes!
My back touched the door again and my panties went drenched. I touched his hair, his chest, ran my hands up to his broad shoulders while his mouth connected with mine, while his tongue slipped in again. God, he felt so good. If I’d thought before that he might be the man for me, now I knew. He was for me. The way I felt when I touched him, when I saw his hands on my body? The hungry way he devoured me? Everything about this was beautiful, perfect.
His large hand slid up my side, caressing the side of my boob until it landed on my neck. His other hand had a handful of my hair. And I was done for. I wanted this. I ached for it. I stumbled on wobbly legs, but righted myself and then I ran my hand up his abs and tried to direct him toward the bed. His hand glided sensually up my mostly bare back.
“Fuck,” he grunted again, and I didn’t get two steps before he stopped me, took my face into both of his hands, and stared deep into my eyes.
I stared back, hoping he’d kiss me again, wanting him to take me to that bed so I could touch him all over, so he could touch me all over.
He shook his head at me and flexed his jaw.
“Christian,” I pleaded.
He grimaced as he let go of me, reached up to the wall and then my ears were ringing. Actually, the whole atmosphere was ringing, and it was ear-piercing.
My head jerked in