I said.
“What about Slash.”
“That top hat he’s famous for wearing onstage? He wears it because he’s nervous performing for crowds and it helps him feel more comfortable.”
“You’re suggesting I start wearing a top hat?” he said dryly.
“If it helps you get onstage and live your life,” I said lightly, “fuck yes. Also, Ozzy Osbourne gets stage fright.”
“Is that all?”
“Nope. I can get you a list. I mean, if you think you’re more special than Ozzy or something—”
“Taylor,” he said. He moved toward me so suddenly, I froze. He gripped my upper arms.
He looked deep into my eyes.
Then he kissed me.
His lips crushed to mine, effectively silencing me. His tongue slicked over my lip, tasting me, and he shuddered. And I was so there for it, so fucking fast, I whimpered a little as my mouth opened for him.
Then he ripped his lips from mine and I drew a stuttery breath.
“Can you please shut up?” he gasped.
“Yes.”
Then he kissed me again. His mouth and mine twisted together, unfamiliar, and I squirmed, embarrassed how badly I wanted to wrap my legs around him and drill him with my tongue.
Down, girl.
He tore himself away again, and his eyes searched my face. They looked wild and possessed with something I couldn’t identify. Something like lust, surging on the adrenalin rush of a man who hadn’t kissed anyone in a really long time?
“Tell me to stop right now if you don’t want me to do that again,” he said, “and we can pretend it never happened.”
“Uh…” My mouth dangled open and I took a shuddering breath. “No… No, we can’t.”
“What?”
“I mean… Please do that again.”
The words were barely out of my mouth when he smashed his mouth to mine again. This time, his tongue swirled into my mouth. A shudder ran all down my body. It felt like he licked my pussy from the inside-out. I sagged in his hold, my legs almost giving out. He was still gripping my upper arms, his fingers digging in. I grasped his shoulders and held on as he drove me right back against the wall with his whole body. He pressed into me, and his warmth felt so good.
I hiked one leg up around his hip, wanting to climb him.
He caught my thigh with one hand and shoved his crotch up into mine. My dress rode up and I felt the hard jab of his cock against my pussy through the thin fabric of my panties. I moaned loudly, rubbing against him.
He kissed me with a deep swipe of his tongue and then sucked on my bottom lip, groaning in the back of his throat. Then he kissed my jaw, my throat.
“I’m not very good at this,” he groaned, as he sucked on my throat and my eyes rolled back in my head and I almost passed out.
“Uh… you’re very good at this,” I panted.
“I’m out of practice.”
“I can’t tell.”
“Taylor… I want you so bad, it’s making me crazy.”
Oh, thank God. “Me, too.”
He came up for air, his eyes locking on mine. He looked fucking drunk and dazed and so horny it made me sopping wet. My panties slid against me as I ground myself against him and I wondered if I was making a giant wet spot on his jeans. His hair was sticking up a bit and he looked undone and unhinged and I wanted to tear off his clothes. But something held me back.
What if I scared him off with my exuberance?
“Are you gonna hate me if I want to fuck you?” he said, pretty much voicing my own thoughts, his eyes dragging down over my lips.
“No.”
His eyes met mine. Lust. “Are you gonna quit?”
“No.”
We smashed together again, our mouths sucking, seeking some kind of impossible depth in each other as our hands dug under one another’s clothes. He had his hand between my legs, inside my panties, and his finger up inside me in one quick push, and I screamed into his mouth. We kept kissing, groaning, melting down. I’d never been so sweaty or shaky making out with a guy, and I was sure I was gushing all over his hand.
He fucked me with his finger as he devoured my mouth and I just tried to remain standing, clinging to him, as the sensations overwhelmed my body. He kissed his way over to my ear and whispered in a ragged voice, “I want to bring you to orgasm.”
Oh hell yes.
I groaned in response, unabashedly fucking his finger. Apparently, he was pretty damn direct