wrapping her arms around her calf.
“I love this movie,” she says, but I’ve already forgotten about it. She turns to look at me, smiling.
“Your brother says hi,” I blurt, not wanting to talk about Robbie in the slightest.
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” she says, obviously not wanting to talk about him either. Serena shifts closer to me, reaching across me to grab a throw blanket from the arm of the sofa.
Orange creamsicle. Sweet vanilla citrus. I close my eyes and try to gain control over my rioting body. It’s like one breath of air near her plugs me in to the most primal parts of my brain. It makes me want her. Need her. Crave her. She drags me into her orbit like it’s nothing, and I don’t even know if she realizes.
Then, I feel Serena’s finger on my temple. She pushes a strand of wet hair back as I lean into her touch, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Serena…” I growl, afraid to say much more. Do I tell her to stop? Do I beg her not to?
“Don’t,” she says. “I missed you.”
“You did?” Hope flares in my chest, and I stare into her deep, brown eyes. I could get lost in them. Her lashes fan over her cheeks as she looks down, a soft pink flush spreading over her face. My hand moves to her thigh, and I feel her pulse hammering beneath my palm.
My heart jumps.
She feels this too. The electricity. The energy. The need.
When Serena finally meets my eye, she moves her fingers across my cheek. Her index finger traces the outline of my lips, and all I want to do is part them and suck her finger inside. I want to taste her skin. Anything.
I. Just. Want. Her.
“What are we doing?” I ask in a breathy whisper, needing to know the answer and not wanting it to be the wrong one.
“I don’t know,” Serena says. “But I’m glad you’re home.”
My hand climbs up her thigh until I feel the curve of her ass, fingers sinking into her flesh. I bet she tastes like heaven. Her eyes flick between mine, trying to read what I’m thinking.
“I’m glad I’m home too,” I say softly, meeting her gaze.
Can she see what I’m not saying? Can she sense what I feel?
I suck in a breath, catching her fingers in mine and laying a soft kiss on her knuckles. “I don’t want to push you, Serena. I know what you’ve been through. I know you need time.”
“I don’t want to be friends,” she whispers, the words tumbling out of her as if she’s been trying to keep them in for days. “I want to be more.”
If there was anything she could say to make my world tilt on its axis, it’s that. Everything I’ve been dreaming of since she walked across the airport lobby, been too afraid to admit, too bitter to face—she summed up in five words. Everything I imagined when my eyes were closed and my fist was tight around my cock, she just spoke out loud.
I lift my eyes to meet hers, gulping down my fears.
My voice is raspy when I finally manage to speak. “Me too.”
18
Serena
My heart feels like it’s about to explode. It races in my chest, bouncing against my ribcage as it pumps hot blood through my body.
Hot. Heat. Fire.
The ice inside me has long since melted. I haven’t felt cold in days.
Even in wet, drafty Woodvale. Even with the wind howling outside. Even though my fingers and toes have been permanently frigid for years.
Right now, I feel Kit’s inferno. I’m burning up.
Crawling my hand up Kit’s chest, I brush the tips of my fingers over his lips again. How many times have I longed to do this? In the couple of weeks I’ve known him, I’ve been dying to feel the firm softness of his mouth. Kit leans toward me, resting his forehead against mine.
“Once we do this, there’s no going back,” he rasps, closing his eyes. “We’re about to cross a line.”
I let out a low chuckle, wrapping my fingers around the back of his neck as I inhale the scent of his skin. “Kit,” I say, shaking my head. “We’ve already crossed it.”
Kit’s eyes darken as his hand slides over my hip. His fingers sink into the soft flesh there and a low groan slips through my lips. Without warning, he grabs me and pulls me over him so I’m straddling him on the couch. I rest my forearms on his shoulders,