Tripping (Iced #2) - Kristine Allen Page 0,20

slow, I was shocked when she took the empty bottle from me and dropped it into the sink with a slight clatter.

Pulling on my shirt, she tugged it free from my pants. I groaned when her soft skin made contact with my lower back before sliding up to dig her fingertips into my shoulders. My other hand, now empty, tangled in the bold flames of her hair. With a gentle pull, I tipped her head back and broke free to feather kisses over her cheek. I slowly moved to the shell of her ear and to the slender column of her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and nips along the way.

“Cameron,” she murmured as her fingers traveled around to slip up my chest. There was no way she couldn’t feel the pounding of my heart under her palm.

Releasing her hair, I gripped her ass and pulled her against the painfully hard length of my cock. A needy whine escaped her as I lifted her to the counter and stepped between her legs. The new angle had the heat of her core pressed up against me as I slowly ground against her.

The sound of a door opening had us jumping apart like the other was on fire. Then again, after that make-out session, we might’ve been. She hopped down and rushed past me and around the corner.

Unsure if she wanted my presence to be known, I quietly moved to the other side of the small kitchen so I wouldn’t be visible unless they came into the room.

Feeling like a teenager hiding from the girl’s parents, I palmed my mouth. Then I tried to make sense of everything. It boggled my mind that I was expending so much time, energy, and thought on chasing a chick. Except, deep inside, I knew.

I really liked her. There was something that simply clicked with me when we were together. Like I’d been missing a piece of my puzzle my whole life—until she crashed into it. Literally.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she rushed back in the kitchen and threw open a cupboard door. She rummaged around for a few seconds before pulling out a bottle of antacids. “Jett has an upset stomach from all the junk food he ate tonight.”

She then hurried out of the room and down the short hall, where I heard her admonish, “I tried to tell you.” It made the corner of my mouth lift, because when I was his age, I wouldn’t have listened either.

When she came back, she chewed on the corner of her lip and wouldn’t make eye contact. A heavy awkwardness had settled in the room, and I wanted nothing more than to disperse it.

“Wanna watch a movie?” I tried.

“I don’t know. I’m kind of tired,” she said as she moved to the sink to take my empty bottle to the trash.

“Um, okay.” I stood there suddenly feeling as if I was losing ground. Inside, I was screaming at myself to say something, but I didn’t know what.

When she picked up the puck from the counter and absently fiddled with it without looking at me, my shoulders dropped in defeat.

“I guess I’ll be going.” Though I said it, I didn’t move. My feet were rooted to the floor, my body not wanting to leave her presence.

She finally glanced up at me and began walking to the door. I was forced to follow or stand in her kitchen like a weirdo. As she opened the door as a clear signal that my time was up, I paused. She gave me an expectant but confused frown when I didn’t leave.

“Okay. Thank you again for the tickets. Jett really had a blast. Oh, and thank you for the signed puck—he’s going to go crazy when he sees it.”

“You’re welcome. I can get you tickets anytime you want to take him to a game.”

“That’s nice of you.” We had tickets available to us for every home game. Which meant it wasn’t that big of a deal, but I was happy to arrange for her and her brother to attend every one.

“Bleu, do you have plans for tomorrow?” I knew Sundays were her only full day off, as she gave lessons on most Saturday mornings.

“Um, well, I, uh, need to do laundry,” she stammered as she fidgeted.

“Is that kind of like you need to wash your hair?” I raised one brow as I waited for her answer. It seemed like an excuse.

To my surprise, she softly laughed. “No, I really do need to do