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“And you could do three hundred. You used to practice in your bedroom. Make me count for you.”
“Yeah, well… push-ups and stretches too. I liked to be prepared.”
“No one prepared for the fitness test. Besides, you couldn’t run worth shit. I always beat you there. Like lapped you. Twice.”
“Shut up.” She scrubbed at her forehead one last time before she flailed out blindly with the cloth. “Rinse this off. It’s not doing much except smearing this crap around now.”
“Yes, master.”
“Stop it.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “You know, I hate whipped cream… but-”
And then… and then the bastard leaned in. She felt his breath like a hot wave against the cold whipped cream right before he licked her.
Licked her.
With his tongue. His hot tongue. He trailed it in a broad sweep from her cheek down to her chin. She heard him lick his lips and swallow and something violent, a storm of angry bees or something, attacked her insides.
“It’s better than I remember it being.”
Sydney froze. She shut down, too shocked to react. Too shocked to swipe out blindly and smack Jesse’s face like she should have. She still couldn’t see and the fact that she could smack something else by accident, forced her to keep her hands to herself. She couldn’t come back with something snappy either, so she pressed her lips tight together.
Which was a good thing, because Jesse leaned in again, so close that she could smell his dark, spicy scent straight through the whipped cream lodged up her nostrils. And he didn’t lick her cheek or her chin.
He went straight for her lips.
Like he wanted to kiss her until they were both out of air.
His fingers tangled in her hair, angling her head back so that a tingle burst over her scalp. It was nothing compared to the shivery heat pooling in her insides and that attack of the angry bees stinging her all over her body. A volley of goosebumps erupted over her skin and then she stopped thinking about her body’s reaction because, shit, Jesse was kissing her, and it was… god, it was fantastic. Amazing. Mind-blowing.
She couldn’t find the strength to push him away, so instead, she leaned into him and made a whimpering sound in the back of her throat that she couldn’t stop from happening. He growled in response and nipped at her bottom lip, setting her skin on fire just like all that food he used to burn because he was seriously a horrible cook.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans against my lips.
“That’s the whipped cream,” she protested breathlessly.
“Nope. That’s all you. Whipped cream doesn’t taste like honey, but you do.”
He ran his tongue across her bottom lip, as if to prove his point, and hello butterflies. They weren’t nice butterflies, though. They were as mean as those bees, filling up her stomach, crashing through her chest in a fluttering flurry that left her gasping for breath.
“You- you shouldn’t be kissing me,” she panted as Jesse trailed his tongue over her top lip, nice and slow, dragging it there, long and slow and pronounced. God, she was on the brink of becoming delirious.
“No?” It sounded more like a question than a statement. “Maybe not. But I like it. And you like it too.”
“I- I don’t,” she protested.
“Maybe you like it better when I nip you then.” He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, scraping his teeth over it, and she mewled, leaning into it because she couldn’t stop herself. Everything he was doing felt so good, and it had been a hell of a long time.
“Maybe you like it when I stroke your tongue with mine.” He did, underscoring his words by busting through the steam of her lips when they parted, finding hers, and stroking it in long, scalding thrusts that made her see stars because she imagined those strokes lower.
Her body ached, her nether regions doing a traitorous happy dance that she should not have been okay with. She wasn’t okay with it. She wasn’t. She kept telling herself that, but she didn’t exactly believe it. It was pretty hard to when her va-jay was currently throbbing and she could smell herself- yes, scent herself.
Or maybe that was him. Because she could definitely smell his dusky, manly scent rising up all around her, and god, it was hot.
She broke the kiss, panting, one hand flailing blindly to plant itself in the center of his chest and push him back a step.
“We have good body chemistry, Syd, admit it.”
“So what?” she ground out. “We might have good chemistry. That doesn’t mean anything. That’s not enough.”
“Maybe not, but it’s a start.”
He left her sitting there, breathless on the barstool, unable to see anything and still unable to move and stumble away. She was almost willing to flee to the front door and take her chances with the media scrum probably still outside. She’d live in a cave for the rest of her life if she had to, to avoid the tabloid rages that branded her a heartless hussy. Yeah. Even if Jesse made good on his threats to ruin her life, it would probably still be better than taking her chances with him in here.
