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It’s like a switch.
Yes.
This is what I need right now.
My pain goes numb, lingering in the air, promising to return as soon as his lips leave mine. But right now… it’s gone. Along with my ability to care. Don’t care that it’ll never work between us. Don’t care that he’ll never give me what I want. Don’t care about the endgame.
I just want now.
And I want Will.
He ravages my mouth with his, backpedaling me against the wooden wall as his hands slink under my shirt. Our tongues dance along to the song we never got to finish when he kissed me at the party. And the fire sputtering to life in my stomach says we’re not running this time.
We’re here until the last chord.
The notes may be flat, the lyrics wrong.
But the melody…
The melody is lifelong.
This kiss bears more recklessness than our previous one. Might have something to do with the absence of a soul to stop us. The absence of a bump to trip over.
This could go too far.
But too far is precisely what I’m craving.
I lower my fingers to his belt, and he gives me the exact same reaction as he did that night in the bathroom, warning me with a low grunt. Knowing I’m the reason for his thinning self-control enthralls me in a way I can’t fathom. Determined to see how far I can push him, I keep my hands there, teasing, tugging at his waistband until he snaps. Squeezing my cheeks with one hand, he looks me dead in the eyes as if to drill the warning into my brain. He doesn’t need to speak. I know exactly what his eyes are saying: Do that again and I might just have to bend you over.
My heart thundering out of control, I nod, and his mouth latches onto mine again. Next thing I know, I’m lying flat on the old, creaking wood flooring of the tree house with Will perched over me. He flips my shirt up to scatter slow kisses across my stomach, and I squirm, grabbing his neck at the base and leading him back to my lips. I try to convince myself I’m just using him to get the pain out of my system. That this won’t change, nor heighten the way I feel about him.
But deep down, I know…
This is how you go from a dumb crush to liking someone. Really liking someone. But you know how you also go from a dumb crush to the real thing?
By letting the hot blond guy pop the button of your jeans.
I gasp at his initiative. Not because I don’t want him to—I want this more than I need air—but because I expected him to stop. To bail before it got this far. A kiss is just a kiss, but this? He’s got to know it would mean crossing another line, checking another step off my list. If we do this, he can’t possibly carry on with his “friends” bullshit.
I can’t silence a moan when his mouth trails along the curve of my jaw, attaching itself to the skin above my collarbone. He goes harder at the timid noises falling out of my mouth.
And… another thing gets harder.
I’m struck by a genius idea when he jerks my zipper down.
I should write a book.
How to get attached to a guy you know who won’t ever commit, written by Kassidy dumbass Kingston.
Will hoists himself up, staring down my face with heat, lust, and doubt in his gaze. He’s trying to decode my emotions, giving me one last chance to protest and save myself. But… his eyes. His fucking eyes.
They lure the truth out of me.
I’m totally falling for him, aren’t I?
Unable to handle his piercing stare a second longer, I lurch forward, trapping his bottom lip between my teeth. He responds by sneaking a hand inside my jeans and resting a finger atop my underwear. My breath hitches as his index glides up and down the fabric repeatedly, driving me completely mad. I’m a solid 95 percent sure he can feel my arousal through my panties, and the way he grunts in appreciation when his hand dips lower bumps it up to a hundred.
One more kiss.
