First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,117
didn’t lick his face, but I wanted to!”
My grin is pathetic.
“No, I didn’t hump his leg! Quit making fun of me!”
I stifle my laugh.
“God, Amy… he’s everything I remember him to be,” she says, and I press my ear closer because I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I hear her moving around the kitchen, picture her there with the phone to her ear, trashing the take-out boxes. “I told him everything I wanted to.”…“Yeah, even that.”…“His reaction was… perfect. Everything he said and did was… perfect.”…“Dammit, Amy. He’s so good. Like, everything about him just… he’s the peace to my chaos.”…“Because I got scared, obviously.”…“Of course, I didn’t want him to leave, but—” Hearing that, I find myself raising my fist, knocking twice. “Shit, I have to go.”
I step back, act casual. All while my heart beats wild inside me.
She opens the door, her face flustered, just like the first time. “Hi.”
“I think I left my keys in here.”
“Oh, okay.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider for me.
With a smile I can’t seem to shake, I go to the kitchen first, pretend to look around. I check the stool I’d been sitting on. “Hmm. I don’t know where they could be.”
“Maybe the couch,” she offers, making her way there. I stand behind her, my eyes glued to her ass when she bends over, reaching in between the cushions. She lifts some throw pillows, searching under there. I’m too late to avert my gaze when she spins to me. “They’re not there.” And when she realizes exactly what I’d been doing, she glares, her eyes thinned to slits. “Pervert.”
I shrug.
Then she eyes me up and down, still glaring. “Do not move,” she orders.
I lock every muscle in place.
Her hands reach up, settling on my stomach. Holding my eyes captive, she slides them lower, lower, until she brushes an inch above my—“Connor!”
“What?”
She reaches into my pocket, pulls out my keys. “Your keys are right—” That’s as far as she gets before I press my mouth to hers, inhaling the gasp that comes from it. I grasp her face in both my hands, pause, hold her there. With her bottom lip caught between mine, I tilt my head, run my tongue along the seam of her lips, asking, begging for permission. But she doesn’t give in to my desires. In fact, she doesn’t move at all. Doesn’t breathe. I wait another beat, hope dying in my chest, and then I pull back, my eyes closed, humiliation flooding every cell. “Sorry,” I whisper, releasing her.
“No, you’re not,” she murmurs, and I open my eyes to see her watching me.
I try to hide my disappointment, but fail, because I can’t fake it when I say, “I had to shoot my shot, right?”
Her hand comes up, palming the back of my neck, and before I know what’s happening, she’s pulling me down to her, whispering, “Come here,” as she does, and then she kisses me. And there’s no pause in her kiss like there was in mine. No hesitation. Her mouth opens, her tongue searching mine and when they meet, a million fireflies collide, lighting up the night sky, filling my lungs with magic. I curl my hands around her waist, lift her off her feet, and break the kiss just long enough to sit on the couch, her hips straddling mine. I go back to kissing her again, drowning in the way she feels pressed against me, the way my palms run smoothly along her bare legs. She has her arms around my head, her fingers grasping my hair, pulling, and fuck, I’ve missed this. She jerks back, gasping for air, and I can’t get enough, so I go to her neck, taste her there, all while my hands drift up and down her thighs. I pause a beat, my hand edging beneath her dress, the edge of her underwear right at my fingertips. She pulls on my hair, tilting my head back, and captures my mouth. And just when I begin to lose myself again, she pulls away. “Maybe we should slow down?”
The only thing I can think to say is, “Huh?” Because I’m not really thinking. Obviously.
“Maybe we should wait.”
I drop my head on her shoulder, wait a moment for the blood to make its way back up to my brain. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve waited a year and a half for this.”