Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,75

amicably. Since I got to college there has been a guy or two, but nothing even close to becoming serious. They have all been… safe.

There is nothing safe about being with Nixon Cole.

He contradicts everything I believe in, stands for everything I hate, but being with him… I’ve never felt more alive or understood.

I extend my hand toward him. A silent offering.

He looks at it like it’s the strangest thing he’s ever seen. Then, slowly, oh so slowly, he puts his hand in mine and pulls me to him.

“What happened to just once?”

With my free hand, I reach for his face, my fingers gliding over his skin and memorizing every line of his face.

I trace the outline of his lower lip, a tingling sensation spreading through my arm. He sucks in a breath, his mouth parting slightly.

“You happened.”

I’m not sure how else to explain it to him. I can’t even explain it to myself.

But my answer seems to satisfy him because he pulls me to the door and out into the hallway. There is a closet there where he stops, taking two towels out of it, and then he leads me down the hallway to the bathroom.

The same one where I overheard his conversation with Jade.

Is it possible that it’s been barely a few weeks since then? It seems like so much longer.

Flicking the switch, he pushes me inside, closing and locking the door after us.

When I turn to him, I find his heated stare on me. “You can still change your mind.”

My hand sliding under the hem of his shirt and brushing against his flat abs is my only answer. I slowly pull the shirt up and over his head, enjoying his hot skin under my palms.

We undress each other slowly, discarding a piece of clothing at a time until we’re both standing naked.

Nixon turns on the shower, and when the water is warm, we step inside. It’s a tight fit, but neither of us complains as we’re pressed close together.

I hiss softly at the first contact of the hot water on my skin. Goosebumps rise on my arms at the difference in temperature, but I welcome the burn.

Nixon picks up shampoo off the shelf and pours some on his palms. I try to reach for it, but he pulls it back. “Let me.”

So I do. Turning my back to him, I let him wash my hair and my body. His hands slide over me, his touch slow and gentle as he washes every inch of me.

A soft moan rips out of my throat as his hand cups my breast, fingers brushing over my puckered nipple and down my stomach.

I cover his hand with mine as the tips of his fingers reach my mound, my whole body leaning back into his strong chest. I can feel his hard erection pressed against my lower back, hot and heavy.

“My turn,” I pant, turning around.

Nixon nods his agreement and hands me shampoo. It smells like pines and just a hint of citrus. His scent. Now rubbed all over my skin. My stomach clenches as heat spreads through my core. A heat that has nothing to do with the hot water and steam filling the room, but with this guy standing in front of me.

I squeeze some body wash onto my hands and rub them together before placing them on his slick skin. My hands roam over his body, rubbing every inch of his flesh. Wide shoulders, defined pecs, narrow waist, and every ridge of his stomach.

My eyes are glued to his serious face, his light irises filled with desire. I move my hand lower. His cock is standing straight, hard, and ready. I wrap my fingers around him, giving him a few slow strokes.

A soft groan rips from his throat as I work his dick with sure movements. If it’s possible he grows even harder in my palm. My tongue darts out, sliding over my lower lip.

I want him.

Bad.

My thumb slides over his head, smearing the drops of precum.

Fuck it.

I fall down on my knees. It’s slippery, so I have to grip his hips to steady myself. With one hand on his hip, I grip his dick in my other one.

Nixon’s eyes grow wide when he sees me. “Yasmin, you don’t have…”

“I want to,” I whisper, and then I take him into my mouth, sucking on him like a lollipop. His eyes grow even darker, but then they fall shut, his head tilting back as my tongue swirls over his head, pulling