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“It’s okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He lifts his hand and brushes a strand of sweaty hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear. I feel like a little kitten who wants to rub into his touch. “As long as you swear you’re good.”
“I swear.”
He nods, and we move into the center of the studio and take our position, standing side by side with his hand on the back of my neck. He starts the music with the remote in his pocket, and I dive into his arms at the first abrupt sound of the violins. He catches me easily and then we’re dancing, kicking and marching and twisting toward each other.
He is a phenomenal dancer. He leads naturally, easily, moving my body like it’s nothing but water flowing around rocks in a river. As though our bodies were made to move together.
The music swells in intensity as we move toward the end of the short routine until we reach the big finish, where Alex spins me in his arms and then dips me low, his face mere inches from mine.
The song ends, and the room is silent save for our sawing breaths and the rush of blood in my ears. Alex’s fingers curl against my back, sending heat radiating outward from his touch, but otherwise, he doesn’t move, his eyes flicking back and forth between my eyes and my mouth.
“Cate,” he says, his voice a raspy whisper. His chest is heaving against mine, and I wonder if he can feel my heart going wild against my ribs. His gaze turns heavy-lidded as it drops to my mouth and stays there.
“Yes, Alex,” I whisper. Whatever he’s asking right now, the answer is yes.
He lets out an anguished groan and then his lips are on mine.
My first kiss.
And it’s a million times better than anything I could’ve imagined. It’s more thrilling than winning a gold medal, more exhilarating than when he launches me in the air.
Alex’s lips are warm and firm, his kiss gentle, almost tentative. I loop my arms around his neck, and he wraps his arms around me, lifting me out of the dip and against him, my feet dangling above the floor. Slowly, he slides me down his body without breaking the kiss, his lips working against mine in a slow, hot rhythm that has me feeling like I’m dissolving.
He pulls away with a groan, his face tight with tension.
“I’m sorry,” he says, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“For?” I ask, raising my hand and touching the tips of my fingers to my tingling lips.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He shoves a hand through his hair, looking absolutely tormented.
“Yes, you should’ve. And you should do it again.” I arch up onto my toes and press my lips to his, taking what I want. He moans and instantly his hands are on my hips, pulling me against him. This time, his tongue slides into my mouth and I gasp against him, the sensation hot and wet and everything I never knew I needed. I kiss him back with everything I have, which probably isn’t much given my lack of experience, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Especially not when his hands slide down to my ass, cupping me and holding me tight against him. I can feel the hot, hard press of him against my belly, and it turns my insides molten. I might be a virgin, but I’m not some naive innocent who doesn’t understand basic human anatomy.
He’s so hard. For me. Because of this kiss.
It’s heady and thrilling and I only want more.
He licks into my mouth and I open wider for him, my tongue sliding against his. He sucks on my lower lip and slides his hands up my sides and cups my face, holding me in place while he kisses the absolute daylights out of me. It’s slow and unhurried, as though I’m the most delicious dessert that he wants to savor.
I could kiss this man forever.
“Alex,” I moan against his mouth, my hands fisted in his tank top. He makes the hottest growling sound I’ve ever heard and suddenly my back is against the wall, my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and the kiss turns fierce and needy. I’m on the best kind of roller coaster—my stomach keeps flipping over on itself, my heart is racing, my skin is tingling.
And in this moment, I’m happy. I’m so freaking happy that Alex is kissing me like he owns me. It’s like golden light is radiating through my chest.
His thumb glides along my jaw as he tastes me, over and over. I have no idea how long we’ve been kissing when he pulls away. Two minutes? My lips feel swollen and tingly, and I let out a little giggle.
He presses his forehead to mine, his eyes closed. “Wanted to do that since I laid eyes on you,” he says, his voice coated in gravel.
“You have?” I’m still clutching his tank top, not ready to let go of this moment.
