“I’m gonna call you Clark.”
I blink. “Clark?”
“Superman. Clark Kent. You’re all buttoned up and responsible.” Jo leans over, and I watch, slack jawed, as she takes her sweet time unbuttoning the top button of my shirt, allowing her gaze to flicker to mine and hold, my dick growing harder and harder as each second ticks by.
My god, this woman is dangerous. I’m not one to take risks, but in her presence I feel like a completely new man.
Do I bring my mouth to hers? Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, practically begging for me to lean in and do the same. She unbuttons the next button, my cock now throbbing at her proximity.
Jo leans in to murmur, “But I bet you fly around putting everyone else before yourself.”
My heartbeat turns rapid and I do my best to sound unaffected. “I’m no Superman,” I scoff, my voice a scrape. “I just try to do what’s right. Sometimes I fail, but I keep trying.”
We sit inches apart, the moment simmering with heat. Seeming to realize our nearness, Jo settles back next to me, leaving me itching to pull her close again.
“Whatever you say. You’re definitely Clark,” she says, nudging my knee with her foot. “My friend’s dad owns a recording studio back home. Singing River Sound. Maybe one day your cousin will record there. All the greats do.”
As we’ve talked, my buzz has gotten stronger. This is why I don’t drink much. I like being in control. I don’t mind it tonight,though. Her smile is intoxicating, and without the alcohol, I wouldn’t have made it this far. Until tonight, I’d never fully understood the phrase “drunk with desire.”
I hardly know her, but tonight it seems chemistry and attraction doesn’t care how many words we’ve exchanged, or even if we know each other’s last names. I’ve read about attraction like this, at first glance, after a single conversation, but I never truly believed it was possible. Until now. The impossibility of what’s happening between us isn’t lost on me. On paper, nothing about tonight, about us, makes sense, and yet I still want her. This woman is in my system like a shot of good bourbon. A liquid fire that curls in your chest and steals your judgment. Yet I can’t stop reaching for more.
Leaning over, I grab the cup of punch and pour both shot glasses to the brim, picking mine up when I’m done. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss someone I just met.”
My gaze locks onto hers, daring. A beat passes. She lifts her own glass without breaking eye contact, and we take our shots at the same time. She pushes to her knees. At first I think she’s gonna bolt, but then she swings her leg so she’s straddling my lap. Every last ounce of restraint shatters when she lowers her hips, curls her hand into my hair and presses her full soft lips to mine.
She leans back, her smoky gaze studying me, and I pull her in again, mouth on hers. Feeling brave, I run my tongue along the seam of her lips in a question. When she opens for me I taste the punch, but also a hint of cinnamon.
I’ve only kissed two girls in my life. Kristen Wright kissed me at the lunch table in fourth grade, then she kicked my shin and stole the homemade brownie Mom had packed for me. Then there was Allison. We dated from tenth grade until she moved away for college. She was my first in every way possible.
That’s the extent of my experience, but by the way Jo whimpers into my mouth, I’m doing something right. We explore with our tongues, and I pay attention to every sound she makes,repeating what earns me another gasp, another shiver. She starts to grind against my cock, and I think I’m about to blow my load right here and now. Her movements still, and she leans back, her lips quirked into a grin.
“Well, well, well.”
“Did you honestly think someone as gorgeous as you wouldn’t have this effect on me?”
Before she can respond, the door bursts open, and Jo quickly slides from my lap. A girl pokes her head in, but when she sees us she looks away. “Sorry. We’ll try the next room.”
At the slam of the door, we sit staring at each other. The strap of her tank has fallen down her shoulder, and I reach over, putting it back in place, trailing my knuckles down her arm. Her hand goes to her swollen lips and her eyes widen.
She cocks one brow, and I mirror it, cocking mine right back.
Silently, I stand to lock the door. With my back to Jo, I adjust myself, and I hear her stifle a laugh.
Click
The sound of the lock might as well be a gunshot for how it competes with the hammering inside my chest. It’s beating so hard I’m surprised he can’t hear it. With his back still to me, a hysterical laugh bubbles up, but I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle it.
What the hell am I even doing?I’m not innocent by any stretch of the imagination, but hooking up with someone I just met? This is a first, even for me.
A flicker of hesitation creeps in, a momentary pause holding me still as Tyler’s back slowly rises and falls on an exhale before he turns. His eyes—hazel darkened to something molten—lock onto mine and hold me there, unyielding. Heat pools low in my belly, spreading until every shred of uncertainty burns away.
Curling a finger in acome heremotion, I grin when Tyler obliges, closing the space between us in three strides. He lowers onto the couch beside me, the edge of his thumb drumming against his thigh, and I track the movement, my gaze trailing up the column of his throat as he swallows.
Deciding to take the lead, I swing a leg over his lap until I’m straddling him again, my knees bracketing his hips. With mycenter settled over the hard ridge of his cock, I’m hyperaware of how wet I already am.
“Okay?” I search his eyes for confirmation, dragging my fingernails up his chest.
Tyler exhales sharply. “More than okay.” His head falls back against the couch, eyes flicking to the ceiling. “So much more than okay.”
