I wanted time to slow down and speed up all at once. I couldn’t wait for him to kiss me, but I also feared what would happen when he did. What if it was terrible? What if I’d built it up in my mind so much that reality could never live up to that memory and the fantasies I’d created of it? What if—
He silenced my thoughts with his lips. At first, I stiffened, but as he continued to glide his lips against mine, I relaxed into his touch. And then I smiled. Justin was kissing me. We were kissing. And not just kissing, at least not like I’d ever kissed before. We were making love with our mouths, two souls connecting.
And the longer we kissed, the more frantic our movements became. With every thrust of his tongue, I imagined his body mimicking the movement. The more we touched, the more my appetite for him grew. His hands were in my hair, on my shoulders, clawing at my shirt, pulling it over my head.
I was just as eager, just as out of control. I tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, and he reached behind his neck and pulled it off. I studied his chest—the smooth skin, strong muscles, the dusting of hair. He was… Wow. Though it wasn’t the first time I’d seen Justin shirtless, it was the first where I could look my fill.
And he drank me in just as greedily, his eyes caressing my bare skin. They lingered on my nipples, which puckered in response. The pebbled buds straining against the lace of my red bralette, aching to be touched by him.
He laid me back on the bed, our lips colliding once more. His kiss—like his touch—was firm yet reverential. Confident even in the softest of caresses. He didn’t hesitate to touch me like he owned me, and perhaps he knew he already did. Always had.
The only sound was that of our shared breaths as he crawled over me. His hard length grazed my thigh through my pajamas before nudging my center. My very wet, very achy, center.
He groaned into my ear as we began to rock against each other, dry-humping in my childhood bedroom like a pair of horny teenagers. And yet—nothing had ever seemed so hot. I was half convinced I was dreaming. And I didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want it to end. Not in a few days, not ever.
“God, Brie. You feel so amazing.” His voice was low and rich, sending vibrations down my spine.
“Yes,” I sighed into his mouth, arching my hips to gain more friction. I wanted more of everything. More of his hard chest brushing against my breasts. More of his hips grinding against mine. More of those whispered words I’d always longed to hear from his lips. It was enough to nearly set me off, and we’d barely removed any clothes.
He slid a hand up to cup my breast, and I moaned.
“Shh.” He chuckled. “You don’t want your parents to hear us, do you?”
My eyes snapped open. I was allowing myself to get carried away, but then I remembered it wasn’t real. None of it was real. Even as he kissed his way down my stomach, the lust-filled haze started to clear. My brain overrode my body, telling me to stop. Because soon, we’d cross a line we couldn’t go back from. Kissing was one thing—though, we’d gotten carried away with the dry-humping. But sex was…sex would… I panted, my body like a live wire. We just couldn’t. Especially not with my parents sleeping down the hall.
Despite the fact that my clit was crying out for his touch. Despite his impressive hard-on, nudging between my thighs. We had to stop.
He stilled, hovering above me. His warm gaze found mine. “What’s wrong?”
“I—” I shook my head. “We.” I swallowed, forcing the words out. “Can’t.”
He shifted so he was lying beside me, and he propped himself up on one elbow, resting the other over me. He was giving me space, while maintaining our connection.
The lines were blurring, and I didn’t know where we stood anymore. Only a few hours into this fictional relationship, and my whole world had been flipped upside down. My head knew it was fake, temporary. But my heart—and my body—were an entirely different matter. My body yearned for this man. And my heart whispered this was where I belonged.
“I shouldn’t have…” He shook his head, tucking his arms behind it.
I missed his touch, wanted to kick