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My thoughts get sucked into a whirlwind.
He was interested in me?
I watch him move across my kitchen—so unsuspecting—and put his empty glass in the dishwasher.
A summer romance. Again, Ava’s suggestion bubbles up to the surface of my brain. But this time, I’m actually considering it.
Because I might say that I don’t date military guys. But I’m female… and it’s a small house.
“Wh—why were you asking me on a date?” I feel the need to ask. Because a guy who looks like a Greek God even after a run—no wait—especiallyafter a run with his skin glistening in a way that accentuates every sinuous curve of muscles… a guy like this is usually out of my reach.
His face screws up a little. “Because you’re attractive.” He rolls his eyes just a touch. “Fishing for compliments this morning? I mean, I didn’t know then that—”
But that’s all the encouragement I need to cut him off, taking two long strides toward him and finally,finally, finding out just how soft his lips are as my mouth presses against his.
Oh, mercy.
There’s nothing tentative in the way I kiss him. It’s not one of those light brushes of his skin against mine that I can blame later on impulse or curiosity or even the absurd magnetic pull he seems to have on me.
Instead, the kiss I savor is nothing but pressure and heat and exploration. He moans as my lips part. When I take in his breath, it seems to empower me somehow, urging me to demand more than just the caress of his lips.
I want all of him. It’s been too long since I’ve let myself succumb to white-hot desire.
This is insane—as though the weekends he’s spent here have built up just enough pent-up longing, and I might explode if I don’t do this.
He pulls back slightly—just far enough away that he’s able to murmur, “I thought you didn’t date military guys.”
It’s a reminder I don’t want right now—one that should bring sense or reason back to me.
Standing here with him, still sweat-soaked from a run, sex should be the furthest thing from my mind. I should only want a shower and another tall glass of water.
But he’s all I want right now. And I don’t care that I’m grimy, or that my hair is in a messy ponytail, or even that I’m wearing the not-so-enticing jogging bra I had to buy last week because God, my breasts kill me when I run. I only care that this is going to happen.
So, in answer, I find myself tugging at the bottom of my shirt and pulling it upwards.
“Who said anything about dating you?” I ask, the voice not sounding like my own because the words just don’t fit me. Nor does the action I take after those words slip from me—me, lowering my mouth to his pecs simply because I want to. I’ve never kissed flesh backed with such solid muscle. I’ve never felt that kind of strength against my lips. Then I kiss him again, tasting the salt on his skin.
His finger brushes against the base of my chin, guiding my face back up to his. His kiss is searing, drawing me up to my tiptoes to be closer, yet realizing that it still won’t be close enough.
My fingertips splay against his muscles. I’ve seen his muscles before, but it’s so different touching them, feeling how they shift as his body moves to hold me even closer. I want to know how it feels to have my naked breasts pressed against him.
Urgency races through my veins as I pull my bra over my head and finally get to feel his skin against my pebble-hard nipples. He moans, sliding his hands to my back.
I ache for more of his touch. My heart rate accelerates when he threads his fingers into my hair, angling my face so that I can taste him fully.
Desperate, I whimper with need. There’s no mistaking what I want to happen next. Desire crashes over me like a wave, pulling me in, and I give in to it.
The feel of the hard ridge of him against me emboldens me to reach for him, and he moans at my touch.
Hewantsme? If I had any idea that I could drive him to this point with a kiss, I’d have taken advantage a long time ago, military guy or not.
I want this—this escape from reality or logic. I want more of this feeling like I’m soaring high above the clouds fueled only by desire.
And if I can feel a high like this only from his kiss, I want to know how I’d feel with my naked body beneath him, how my heart would ascend to the heavens with the slide of his thickness entering me.
I want it desperately.
His running shorts are thin, letting me feel how his cock pulsates the harder I press against him. I feel the moisture and heat build between my legs and I need sweet relief from it—relief that only he can give me right now.
