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Holding his gaze, I lean in. My lips brush his. So gently it’s barely a touch. But it’s everything. I feel it down to my toes. Drew sucks in a sharp breath, his body going tight. So I do it again. Stronger. More sure. Clinging just a bit to his lower lip.
And then he groans. His fingers thread into my hair, clutching tight as he tilts his head and kisses me back. It isn’t hard or frantic. It’s a warm, melting exploration, as if we’ve fallen into the middle of a kiss, tongues sliding, lips melding and parting in a slow rhythm. And I ignite, burning brighter than the sun. Sensation, want, need, surge through me on a moan that’s lost in his mouth.
Drew shivers. His fingertips run along my neck, my cheek, and back down again, as his lips nuzzle and suck on mine. Going deeper, having more of me every time. And every time my heart clenches just a bit harder within my chest.
Dizziness swamps me. There is no up or down, just Drew. Drew’s mouth. His taste and his heat. I want to sink into him, drown in his touch. I tremble, whimpering in frustration as I rock against his erection and open my mouth wider for his kiss. He holds me tighter. Grounding me.
“It’s better,” he says inside a kiss.
“Better?” My hands roam the plains of his chest, the rounded swells of his shoulders. I’ve missed the feel of him against me.
“Kissing you. It’s better than I imagined.”
I hadn’t let myself imagine. I touch his cheek, and our gazes collide. My breath grows short. My heart actually hurts. “Drew.” I don’t know what else to say. But it seems enough for him right now.
He holds me like I’m precious to him, like he wants to fuse us together.
“Come home with me,” he whispers between kisses that are growing more urgent, fierce. His skin is damp, his body shaking as hard as mine. “I need you, Anna. I need you in my bed.”
I can barely keep my eyes open. My clothes smother me. Sweat trickles down my back, and my thighs tremble with need. And I can’t stop kissing him. Deep, light, hard, soft. It’s too much. I knew it would be. I am lost in him.
“Anna...” His voice is weak now, and rough as his breathing.
“Yes,” I manage. “Yes.”
Pressing his forehead to mine, he nods once, his fingertips still roaming over my face as if he needs to memorize it by touch. “Okay.” Another seeking kiss. “Okay.”
twenty
Anna
I stay in his lap as he drives us home. It’s dangerous but neither of us is thinking very clearly now. It’s not an option to move off him, to let him go. Drew’s arm remains wrapped around my waist, his big hand clamped on my hip as if he’s afraid I might change my mind, try to escape.
I don’t. I won’t. I’m too far gone now. I’m weak and needy for him. So he drives, and my head rests on his shoulder as my fingers trace his neck, touch the spot where his pulse is a rapid tattoo. He holds me tighter, presses his cheek against the top of my head, as he maneuvers the car down darkened neighborhood streets.
His heart beats as fast as my own. We’re almost humming with anxious anticipation. If we don’t get there soon, I know he’ll pull over and take me in the back seat, cramped or not. I almost make the suggestion, I’m so achy for him, but the car swerves into a driveway and then lurches to a halt.
He’s got the car turned off and the parking brake on in seconds. The door wrenches open, and somehow, we’re out. I’m in his arms. I don’t even know how he’s accomplished swinging both himself and my body weight out of the car with such ease, nor do I protest that he’s carrying me. I’m pretty sure if he puts me down right now, we’d both fall.
His house is a small Craftsman-style bungalow with a peaked roof that creates a wide front porch. Drew makes short work of the front steps. I burrow my nose into his neck and cling with my legs around his waist as he fumbles with his keys before the glass-pained door. Then we’re stumbling inside.
I get a glimpse of white walls, high ceilings, and dark floors. A retro ’30s metal dome table lamp casts a warm haze over a leather couch and chair and teak credenza. This isn’t a college guy’s hangout. It’s a home. Framed and matted photos hang from the walls. That’s all I see of it. Drew captures my mouth with his once more, his grip on my ass tight and sure as he strides across the room.
His room is cool, quiet, the mellow glow of another table lamp limning everything in golden light. Drew sets me down at the foot of his bed before attacking my buttons, his fingers fumbling and desperate, his mouth never leaving mine.
My knuckles press into his abdomen as I rip open his jeans, shoving them down in my haste. The waistband of his boxer briefs snags over his hard cock, and he curses. He frees himself then reaches for me. Everything becomes a blur of flying, discarded clothes and messy kisses. And then the world lifts away. In his arms one second, and sinking into a cool, thick down comforter the next.
Drew climbs over me. Hot, smooth skin slides over mine. Hard muscles. Heavy, dense flesh. And everywhere he touches, I ignite.
We don’t stop kissing. I don’t think I’m capable of stopping. I’m starved for his mouth.
He moves between my legs, and I tilt my hips to give him better access. Now. I want him now. Hard. Fast. But suddenly he slows us down, suckling my lower lip before he raises his head. Arms bracketing me, he looks into my eyes, his fingers playing with my hair.
His lids lower a fraction, but he doesn’t close his eyes. “Every night,” he says. “Every single night I’ve thought about you being here. Just like this.”
I shiver. Every single night I’ve feared being here. Like this. Because I wanted it so very much.
Skin to skin, we lie, trembling and sweating. Between our pressed bellies, his cock throbs hot and firm. I struggle to breathe. My palms skim over his narrow, tight waist. “Now that you have me here, what are you going to do to me?”
