His next kiss is whisper-soft across my lips.
Until it’s not.
I close my eyes, unable to look at him as the intensity grows. He lifts me up and twirls me around until my butt hits the desk in the corner. I land on something uneven and lift a book from under me.TheSecrets of Roan Island.The same book I was reading aloud to Mom the day he caught me.
I wave it at him, and he shrugs with a smile. He pulls the desk chair close, sits down, and takes the book, tapping it against his chin. “Do you know what my favorite scene is?”
I shake my head, feeling breathless and dizzy, like I’m standing on a steep precipice about to slip off and fall.
He trails the edge of the book down the inside of my calf. “It’s the scene where he goes down on her in the library.”
I suck in a breath, remembering how into it the morally grey love interest had been.
“Really?”
“Definitely.” He drops the book and brings his hands to my knees, pushing gently to spread them apart. His gaze drops between my legs. My sweater dress lands just above my knees, and I’m wearing tights, but I feel like he can see right through it all.
I can feel my heart in my throat, and I have to fight the urge to close my legs.
“What was your favorite scene, beautiful?”
Beautiful. No one’s ever called me that before.
“Um…” I can do this. I can be brave. “When he chased her through the house,” I whisper.
Cosmos slips his hands under the hem of my dress. “Hmm, that’s on my romance book bucket list.” His fingers tighten on the flesh of my thigh. “But right now, there’s only one thing I want.”
“What’s that?”
He pulls back enough to look at me, and everything is silent again. His eyes twinkle with mischief, and his dimples are at full force. “Can’t you guess?”
His fingers inch higher, and his teeth scrape across his bottom lip. My cheeks flame hot. He can’t mean what I think he means, right?
His gaze drops as he inches my dress up my thighs. I can hear music from downstairs and the faint sound of the woman I saw earlier talking on the phone in the next room. Cosmos is undeterred by any of it. His hands glide along my thighs until they wrap around the waistband of my tights. My insides quake in anticipation and apprehension.
“What if we get caught?”
“We won’t.” He catches my eye, and time stops. I chew my cheek, nervous, but eager.
He tugs lightly on the stretchy fabric of my tights with a question in his eyes. “Lift.”
Pressing my palms into the desk, I lift my hips just enough for him to work the fabric down my legs. He keeps his eyes locked on mine. He doesn’t rush, giving me time to change my mind. But I don’t want to stop this.
I’m not entirely sure where this is going, what he’s going to do next, but for once the uncertainty has me excited.
He yanks my hips to the very edge of the desk, and I gasp.
“Let me taste you, Hazel,” he rasps.
My laugh sounds like broken china, delicate andsharp. I can’t help it. His words sound like they’re straight out of a romance novel.
I’ve always had mixed feelings about oral sex, always wondering if the guy is just suffering through it out of some sense of obligation or to get oral in return. I found it strange when the males in romance novels got so carried away about a woman’s taste, like they were just as into it as their love interest. It didn’t feel completely believable.
“Why do the guys in romance novels always obsess over the taste?” I blurt. “That’s not a real-life thing, is it? It’s just there so women feel less ashamed about wanting oral, right?”
His smile is soft, endearing, his eyes dark. “Do you feel ashamed about wanting oral?” His hand rubs up and down my bare thigh. He’s so close his breath warms my skin.
I squirm, wanting to get closer and farther away at the same time. “I… well… isn’t it kind of… gross down there?”
