Our lips crash together, fitting like they were meant for this. Kelly melts into my arms, her hands sliding into the back pocket of my jeans and cupping my ass.Damn. My restraint is slipping as I push one leg between both of hers, hearing her moan as my thigh comes into contact with the apex of her thighs. She starts to grind against me, and I growl her name against her lips.
I don’t want to stop. I want her to lose herself in this kiss, forget any reason or hesitation she might have about us, but I know Kelly. And I know she’s going to need to retreat and think about things for a while, so I force myself to step back.
And when I see the confusion warring with lust in her eyes, I know the right thing to do is to say goodnight and walk away.
But later, lying in bed with Oliver snoring at my feet, I let myself imagine the night ending a little differently.
And fucking hell, do I ever want to makethathappen. Soon.
Chapter nine
Kelly
That kiss was a mistake. Because for the last half hour I’ve been lying in bed, unable to sleep, desperately wondering if Jensen is as good at…other things…as he is at kissing.
I’m willing to bet the answer is yes.
“This is stupid,” I grumble under my breath as I punch my pillow for the tenth time. It’s not like there’s any doubt in my mind that Jensen wanted to take things further tonight. I felt the evidence of that myself.
But he’s still mybest friendand I know that if we do this, if we cross this line, things between us will never be the same. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll be better.
Which is what has me throwing off the covers, cupping my hands over my mouth to do a quick breath check, and then making my way down the hall.
Oliver lifts his head with a huff from the foot of the bed. I snap my fingers, and he slowly uncurls himself, hops off the bed, and ambles over to me. I gently nudge him out of the room and close the door as a gravelly, sleep-filled voice comes from the bed.
“Kelly? What are you doing?”
I take one last deep breath of courage before pivoting on my feet and lifting my tank top up and over my head, revealing all of me except the little boy short style panties I sleep in.
“Come here.” Any trace of sleep is gone from his voice and my body immediately responds to the command. But the room is dark, and I don’t see the shoe on the floor until I stumble and flail toward the bed. Strong arms catch me, and the next second I’m on my back, on pillows that smell like Jensen, and his bare torso is hovering over me, his corded biceps framing my head.
“Jensen, I…” I start to say something, but I have no idea what because his lips cover mine, and I’m a goner.
“If you’re here to tell me you don’t want this, then speak up. Otherwise, be quiet and let me show you all the dirty ways I’ve wanted to have you over the last ten years.”
My entire body vibrates with the sensual power in his voice. But I do as I’m told and don’t say another word. Instead, my hands wrap around his waist, and I pull until he lowers himself, letting his entire body come into contact with mine. The weight of him, the heat between us, sends a delicious spark through my body. I draw my short nails up and down his back as our tongues tangle together, exploring each other.
I lose track of everything except the feel of his lips on my skin as he trails a path down my neck, lightly nipping at my collar bone, making me gasp. As soon as the sound leaves my mouth, Jensen lifts himself up, and the pure alpha-male, satisfied smirk he flashes me brings a throaty chuckle. But that laugh turns into a moan when he leans down and latches on to one of my breasts, biting down gently before swirling his tongue around, teasing my nipple into a stiff nub.
Even without any words between us, Jensen knows me, knows my body. Call it instinct, or familiarity, or a soul-deep connection that defies explanation. Whatever it is, he uses it, bringing me to the edge of oblivion. With his attention only on my breasts.
What in the good God kind of sorcery is this…
“Jensen, please,” I moan. I need more. And yet, I don’t ever want him to stop what he’s doing.
“I’ve got you, Kell.”
Light, tickling strokes run down the sides of my torso and over the crease of my pelvis. Only then, when his thumbs are intoxicatingly close to where I want him, does his grip tighten. His fingers dig into my hips and his head lowers.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about doing this,” he murmurs, his brown eyes locked on mine.
A thousand questions run through my head. But before I have time to voice any of them, he’s pulling down my underwear and his tongue is on me, drawing a path of fire up the length of my slit.
“Oh God,” I cry, my hands tugging his hair, pulling him in tighter.
“Not God. Just Jensen.”
I had no freaking clue my best friend had a dirty streak a mile wide, but I am loving it. And when he takes the bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucks, I scream his name over and over, chanting it like a prayer.
