Wrong Question, Right Answer (The Bourbon Street Boys #3) - Elle Casey Page 0,11
at my eyes. “Toni, I’m going to kiss you again. Please don’t knee me in the nuts or punch me in the face.”
I bite the insides of my cheeks, trying not to smile. He looks so desperate, so serious. And this time he’s smart enough to warn me about what he’s going to do before he does it. I’m so busy trying to calculate whether I should say yes or no, I miss out on the fact that he’s already coming for me.
He places his hands on either side of my face and leans down, his eyes closing.
Should I duck under his arm and run? Should I knee him in the nads, even though he asked me not to? Should I close my eyes and just wait and see what happens? Too many teas, not enough time. Something whispers in the back of my head, another part of me, not as addled by the liquor as my conscious mind. No, it whispers, desperate to get me out of here. Don’t do it! You’ll destroy him! He’ll destroy you! Nothing good can come of this! Unfortunately, I’m really good at ignoring great advice.
Lucky’s lips touch mine, gently at first, but things heat up pretty quickly. For a few moments, I imagine that I’m going to force myself not to respond, let him run the show so he’ll see that I’m not interested in playing these games with him; but something in me catches fire and I lose all control in a matter of seconds. That little, rational voice inside my head is getting fainter and fainter. Sorry, brain, wrong answer. My answer to his request to kiss me is not no. It’s a resounding yes, yes, yes!
He presses me into the wall, his hands moving down from the sides of my face to my shoulders. I grab at his waist and squeeze his shirt, twisting it and hanging on like my life depends on it. He tastes like pure recklessness and smells like Lucky, a potent combination. I want to feel more of him on me, work out this antsy emotion threatening to swallow me whole.
He moans, sending my blood pressure spiking. My fingers go up to tangle in his hair and pull him closer. One of his hands is on my breast, squeezing. I’m hot. So turned on. It’s been too long since I’ve let a man touch me.
I don’t even know who I am right now, what my life is all about, what I plan to do with my future. All that matters is this moment, these few seconds that Lucky and I are stealing from the world, from reality. He’s been in my life for as long as I can remember, always there, always in the background, always smiling, always being a way better man than I deserve. Being with him can’t be right, but I’m doing this anyway. Hell yeah, I am. I’ll deal with the consequences later.
His tongue is hot, his lips full and soft. I have tingles running all over my body from his hands roaming everywhere they shouldn’t. My nipples are hard and my panties are wet.
He grabs me around the back while he’s still kissing me and pulls me away from the wall.
“Where’re we going?” His teeth scrape my lip and I dive in for more. I can’t get enough of him tonight.
“Just kiss me,” he says, guiding us through the house, crashing into furniture and knocking things over on the way. We end up in the living room and collapse onto the sofa together. The weight of his body pushes into me and I can feel his rock-hard length pressing into the soft spot between my legs. I’m on fire. I can’t think straight. The only thing going through my mind right now is how bad I want him inside me.
Screw the consequences. Screw the awkward moments that are bound to follow tomorrow and years after. One kiss from junior high lasted ten years; how long is this one going to last? Screw it. I convince myself it won’t last at all. Or not for long. We’re adults. We’ll get over this in a couple days, and life will go back to normal. I need him. Now.
“I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” he mumbles against my mouth.
I don’t like that he’s trying to complicate things. This can be just about sex for me. I can do this and so can he. “Shut up,” I growl, yanking his shirt out of