Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,53

were almost touching, and I could have read his lips, if only I’d given him the chance to speak.

My volume tripled. “I didn’t agree to let Cam use my real name in the book…I made him do it! I told him from the beginning, if he was going to write the story, then it was going to have my name on it. He didn’t even want to. I made him.”

Our equally heavy breaths intermingled in the small space that still separated us. An errant raindrop traced down his face, from the corner of his eye to rest above his upper lip, so much like a tear, yet different. There was so much satisfaction in wiping that arrogant look off his face, but I knew any victory was going to be short lived. It would only take a second for him to regroup, and I couldn’t let that happen. I’d already said too much.

So I kissed him, slamming my body into his, so hard he lost his footing and we hit the soggy ground with a thud. His lips worked hungrily against mine like he was starving just for me, and I took full pleasure in their devious intentions.

I kissed him because if I hadn’t, more questions would have soon followed. I pressed myself against his hard body, because I couldn’t not for a single second longer. A girl only had so much willpower, and there were only so many opportunities to fully experience a body like his. And oh, what a body it was. Once I was done denying myself, my hands grasped for every part of him I could touch, tracing each inch of smooth skin that had teased me.

He rolled us over aggressively and his need burned into me, setting me on fire where my skin prickled with contradicting Goosebumps.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He took the words right out of my mouth, lingering above me and temporarily guarding me from the rain. My panties might have disintegrated right then and there, lulled by his husky accent.

I tried to use the heels of my feet that were buried in his backside to bring his body back to mine, but he resisted, staring at me a moment longer before wrenching himself off the ground. My libido was like a roaring lion that had finally escaped her cage, eviscerating my pride as I considered wrapping myself around him like a monkey to keep him from leaving me in this torturous state of unfulfilled desire. He dragged me right along behind him though, saving me from any rash actions that would surely haunt me later.

“Cam’s is right there,” I told him quickly, catching onto his plan to get us out of the storm.

He didn’t say anything (not that I could hear at least). I dragged my feet, losing both flip flops, but I counted it as a victory when it got him to falter at least momentarily.

His eyes were so dark they were nearly black with want, but they still managed to convey an ounce of skepticism. “You really want to do this in your ex-boyfriend’s house?”

“Good point.” I had no more complaints as we made haste towards Declan’s house down the street.

His keys clanked loudly to the floor just inside the door, but we were too busy with each other to put them in their proper place (wherever that might have been). We were lucky the door was a hard surface that Declan could push me against, or else it probably wouldn’t have gotten closed.

Lips seared down my throat, but the cold air battled for dominance and my teeth chattered.

“Clothes off,” I managed to get out.

His attention left my skin, pulling back slightly as he stared at me with awe.

“You’re bloody fantastic.”

“I’m freezing,” I corrected, pushing him away so I could begin peeling away the soaked clothes plastered to my body.

Down to my underwear, I didn’t get a chance to get a good look at his exposed state before he was on me again. Lust brought us together, but an unforeseeable magnetism held me there. He was warm where I was cold, and hard where I was soft. The contrasting sensations pooled in the pit of my stomach, and I was helpless to my body writhing against him.

Without the conscious decision to do so, my legs raised easily to encase his hips, and I whimpered at the intimate friction of only being separated by a few, measly pieces of fabric. All it would take was few tugs of the useless clothes