“You know where to find me,” I sing-song, taking another bite. When he doesn’t fire back, I turn to look at him. Eyes on the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
I raise my brows. “Thinking about it?”
He whips his head my way. “…no. No,” he snorts. “Fucking Molly.” He clears his throat, sits up, and rests his arms on top of his knees.
I chuckle and pull myself up. “You want a consolation prize?” I offer him a rope, but he just looks at it before his eyes travel to my mouth as I take another bite. He swallows again, looking away, cracking his neck before turning back. And there’s something different about him. In the way his gaze trails down from my eyes to my mouth and stays there.
His tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip before he rolls it between his teeth. Why is he looking at me like that? He’s so close I can feel his breath on my skin and all I can do is stare at him as my pulse starts hammering in my ears.
Kaden drops his gaze, drags a hand over his mouth and chin. Shoving his hands into his hair, ruffling it as he slowly exhales. I don’t know if the drugs are getting to him or what is going on.
“Are you ok—”
He faces me, wraps a hand around my neck, and presses his lips to mine.
And everything stops—my breathing, my heartbeat, me.
Kaden is kissing me.
Oh, my god, Kaden is kissing me!
I don’t know what to do, my arms hang by my sides like dead weight, the candy rope in my hand completely forgotten. He pulls back, angling his body. His knee bumps against mine as he leans in, tightening the grip around my neck, and licks the seam of my lips.
I have no idea what’s happening, but fuck if I’m going to question it. I open up and he slides his tongue inside. He tastes like that peppermint gum he’s always chewing, and when his cologne fills my nostrils, all the blood in my head rushes south.
I slide a hand into the hair at the back of his head to pull him closer. It’s so damn soft, exactly like I imagined. He thrusts his tongue in deeper and a whimper leaves me. Because of course, he’s a fucking mastermind when it comes to kissing, too.
He pulls back again, leaning his forehead against mine, breathing hard. His pupils are blown so wide, they almost look black.
“D’you mean it?” he rushes the words out, stumbling over them.
I just look at him, panting. I don’t know what he’s talking about, and I can’t think. I just want more of whatever that was.
“Seth…” he pleads, moving his eyes from mine to my mouth and back. And that’s the only way I want to hear my name from his lips from here on out.
I’m in a haze, and somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s a tiny voice telling me this is not a great idea. That it’s actually a pretty bad one, all things considered, but I shut that voice right up and crash my lips to Kaden’s. I completely devour him. This is all I ever wanted, and I’m not going to ruin it with stupid things like… what? Logic?
Never heard of her.
Teeth clashing, tongues tangling together, and our panting breaths fills the air. He slides one hand onto the nape of my neck, the other’s keeping a firm grip on my jaw, as he tilts myhead to deepen the kiss. I comb my fingers through his hair, messing it up.
He tugs on my shirt, then back to my jaw, my hair—his hands are everywhere. Lips still fused, I push myself up, straddling him, and he falls back on the floor. And then his hard body is pressed against mine.
I could live here. Make myself a little home. Decorate it with butterflies and happiness and Kaden.
He bites down on my lip as he slides his hand into my hair, tugging at it, and I’m a whimpering mess. Fingers are digging into my skin as he moves his hands down to grip my hips, and they move of their own accord, grinding down on him. And I’m absolutely shocked to realize he’s as hard as I am, and I can’t fucking believe this is happening.
What if it’s not?
What if it’s just a hallucination? We’re high off our asses, this might only be a dream.
Don’t wake up! Don’t wake up! Don’t wake up!
Kaden pulls back, catching his breath, rolling his hips against me as I kiss down his neck. I push his shirt up, and run my hands over the ridge of his abs, kissing his collarbone, his chest, stomach. I stop at the waistband of his jeans, looking up at him, reading his every expression as I undo the button and slowly unzip.
He swallows and hooks his thumbs inside the waistband, pushing his pants down. His black boxer briefs are tented, and I lick my lips instinctively, before I grip him through the fabric, drawing a gasp from him.
He looks high when I glance up at him. I mean, he is—we both are—but his pupils are so dilated, I can’t see the green at all. I don’t want to know what I look like right now. Probably deranged with how turned on I am. How fucking insane this situation is.
