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“No…yes…you’re smart enough to know it has nothing to do with you. Kissing you was…amazing. Touching you, feeling you…I can’t get it out of my head,” he tells me as he sits back down and grabs his drink.
“But…?”
Bringing his drink to his lips he shoots me a look. “But…it can’t happen again, Maddie.”
“Why? It’s just kissing…”
He cocks an eyebrow at me and looks me up and down like he’s trying to show his attraction for me and how difficult it is to just kiss me. “You and I both know that what happened here this afternoon is a slippery slope.”
“What if I promise not to push for more?”
He snorts as he grabs his plate that’s cooled down and sits at the table. “Yeah, okay, eventually you’ll want more.” He pushes his food around his plate and looks up at me. “Eventually, I’ll want more.”
“So, that’s it?”
“That’s it. I’m your legal guardian. I can’t…we can’t…No.” He shakes his head.
“You didn’t adopt me. I’m not your daughter.”
“That aside, you’re seventeen. I’m an officer of the law. I know better. I shouldn’t have even touched you the way I did.” He drops his head into his hands and pulls on his hair.
“Then don’t have sex with me until I’m eighteen. Besides half the states in the US say I can give consent at seventeen or younger! I can get married even earlier with like parental consent.” So, you basically. He shoots me a look and I roll my eyes. “Lighten up! God, you’re still so easy to rile up. You act like I won’t be eighteen, in less than a month.”
“This isn’t funny, Madeline,” he snaps.
I sit down next to him and slide my legs over his knee and prop an elbow up on the table. “I’m sorry, I get the whole making jokes when I’m nervous thing from you, I think.” I smile before I grab his drink and take a tiny sip.
He chuckles and his hand finds my lips, drawing his thumb over the skin. He doesn’t say anything for a while before he murmurs, “You’re so beautiful.” He strokes my cheek, cupping it gently and I rest my hand over his.
“So are you.”
His eyes rest on my lips, tracing over the fullness and my tongue darts out to wet them.
“Fuck.” His eyes shut and when he opens them, I can see the war in his eyes over what to do.
He lets out a breath and adjusts himself, and I swallow past the lump in my throat seeing him grow under his slacks. I look up and his hooded gaze is penetrating me, seeing me, knowing me. I can’t look anywhere except his eyes and how close he’s getting to me. I’m not sure who started moving first, but before long we’ve met in the middle, our tongues in a battle neither one of us care about winning. He tastes like whiskey and the spice from the stir fry and a hint of the raw virility I tasted earlier. His tongue is experienced, demanding and rough against my timid one who hasn’t done this but so many times. We’re still far enough apart from our positions at the table and I’m too nervous to move closer for fear of breaking the haze and scaring him off again. But he makes the move, standing up and separating us for a second before pulling me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist on instinct before we’re on the move up the stairs our lips never separating. “I need you in my room. It’ll freak me out too much being in yours.”
“Yes, please. Take me to your bedroom,” I moan as we cross the threshold and tumble onto his bed. I’m in my pajamas, but he’s still in a dress shirt and slacks. I want to tell him to change before we ruin these just like we did his sweats from earlier, but I worry that he’ll panic at the thought of getting naked in front of me. “Cal,” I moan as his lips find my neck, sucking at the skin and I relish at the idea of having a hickey. My usually flawless skin purple and blue with indents of his teeth in the flesh.
“I won’t mark you here.” His voice is low in his throat and it makes my whole body tingle. “Maybe somewhere less visible.”
“Like…between my legs?” I can feel my cheeks heating with embarrassment or maybe arousal?
“Shit, like exactly there.”
I take deep breaths, trying to slow my breathing as I think about him leaving a hickey. On my fucking pussy. I’ve died and gone to heaven…
Or maybe hell.
“I bet your clit is so pink and pretty. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” He bites down on my neck again and I yelp.
“Do you want to try it? I don’t think it’s that sweet.” So much for not pushing him, Mads.
He pulls back to look at me. “You’ve tried it?”
“Sure.” I shrug. “I
was curious.”
