“Um—I-I don’t know,” she stutters out, but it’s barely a whisper.
“What aren’t you sure about? Tell me what you’re thinking in that pretty head of yours.” I let my hand fall farther down her neck so my thumb can coast over her pulse point. It’s fast and erratic, just like mine.
“I just… What if kissing is too much? I don’t want to jeopardize what we have, our friendship, for a stupid lie. We’re too important.”
Her eyes are closed now, and I can sense her fear. I’m scared too, but I also haven’t felt this alive in a long time.
“Joss, there isn’t a single thing that could jeopardize that, I promise you.”
She still has her eyes closed, like she’s not sure what she might see in mine if she opens them.
“Look at me, Joss. Please.” I need those grey eyes boring into mine. “I amnotgoing anywhere. Whether you let me kiss you or not, whether your mom is a raging bitch or not, whether this ruse succeeds or not… I will still be here at the end of the day. You’re the closest friend I’ve had in a long time—maybe even more than Breck. I’m not letting anything ruin this, Joss.”
She lets out a little laugh, and I think I’ve finally gotten through to her. Saying the words out loud helps me to believe them too. She rubs her thumb across the back of my hand again. “I didn’t figure you and Breck ever gotthisclose.”
My laugh is unfettered, my shoulders shaking with it. I love that she can somehow crack a joke at a time like this. She always knows just what to say to make me smile.
“No, we’ve definitely never been this close.” I wrap my fingers around her nape and pull her closer to emphasize the point. “You didn’t answer my question.”
I’m holding her churning grey gaze with my blue one. I wish so badly I could hear her thoughts.
“Can. I. Kiss. You?” I let the words sink into the space between us. Her eyes dart to my mouth then back up to meet mine.
“Yes.”
Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, and it’s almost my undoing… But I need to be sure.
I watch her roll her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Right now?” I drag my eyes from her mouth to look her dead in the eyes, knowing it’s there that I’ll see her answer. I don’t want our first kiss to be in front of her mother, and I can’t think of a single valid reason to keep from kissing her right now. Another drag of my thumb over that pulse point, and I’m holding on by a thread. Those mercury pools swirl with want as she says the two words I need to hear.
“Yes. Please.”
It’s all I need to close the inches between us and press my lips to hers.
Finally.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Joss
Finally.
Wes’s lips meet mine in a tentative, cautious kiss. It must be taking every ounce of his self-control—unless he isn’t feeling the intense pull between us the same way I am. If I were in control of this kiss, I’d probably have him on his back already. His velvet lips move gently against mine. God, I knew this would be amazing, but it’s so much better than I imagined.
He pulls back and leans his forehead against mine. His breaths are quick and shallow, his eyes closed tight. I run my free hand up his arm and grip his bicep. The little squeeze I give it is mirrored in his grip on my neck, holding me close. A tiny whimper escapes me at that possessive touch, and his eyes fly open, searching mine. They’re darker now, like the sky at twilight.
This time it’s me who presses forward, brushing a soft kiss against his even softer lips. My tongue teases the seam of his mouth, begging for entry. He tastes like coffee and sugar, my two favorite things. I hum, my lips parting, and Wes seizes the opportunity to explore. When his tongue slides against my own, my restraint snaps.
My hand tangles in his hair, and I try to pull him closer, but my bent knees are in the way. I’ve always wondered what it means in my romance novels when someone “growls in frustration,” but I think I get it now. I need more, and I need it now. I let my right leg fall open to the side and tug at his hair.
His low moan vibrates through me as his body shifts. Releasing my hand, he pulls me with him until we’re laid out on the couch. My left knee bent, trapped between his body and the back of the sofa, my right hugging along his hip on the other side. He mimics my hold on him by sliding his hand into my hair and pulling gently, exposing more of my throat.
I miss his lips on mine until they find the spot beneath my ear and work their way down my neck. I moan at the feel of him. The heat. The pressure. The way his beard scrapes across my skin. My body lights up. He nips at my collarbone with his teeth, and I could float away on the tide of sensation.
Where I could barely breathe a minute ago, I’m panting now. My breaths are fast and labored, matching his. Oh god, I feel like I could combust. How long has it been since someone touched me like this?
Wes’s arm slides from behind my back, his hand pressing into the crease of my hip and thigh as his body rocks forward. I stifle the cry that’s so close to escaping, and rock up againsthim. Holy shit. Are we really dry humping on the couch like a couple of teenagers? Yes, yes we are. Do I want to stop? No, no I do not.
