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“One more night?” Bryn strokes some hair from my face, and I all but melt into him.
“Yes.”
“I knew it!” says Taylor from behind. “You guys hooked up! You’re not together at all.”
“If we’d hooked up, why would I be here?” Bryn asks, breaking away and looking at my friend. “I’d have what I wanted and move onto the next girl in the queue. Avery is a special girl. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like crap.” His intensity has shifted back to me. “I told Martin he’s an idiot to throw you away.”
Who? What? Where?I have no clue where I am right now because Bryn looks at me as if his words are true; as if I’m somebody he wants.
“Besides, the things she does to me… you have no idea how much I fight to keep my hands off Avery.”
What the...?My thoughts are interrupted by Bryn’s mouth touching mine. Touching. More like assaulting, if I could call the fact it feels bloody amazing an assault. I stumble and he holds the small of my back, steadying me.
My first instinct is to put my hands between us and push Bryn away, but my lips have other ideas. There’s no softness to his kiss. This is a full-on mouth-parting, tongue-tangling,andomigod-I’m-kissing-a-rock-star moment of lust. Star struck Avery wants this. I circle my arms around Bryn’s neck, relishing the taste of him as I enthusiastically return his kiss. He makes a noise of surprise and I pause, hoping he’s not about to break the illusion–for me or for Taylor.
Bryn doesn’t pause and the world disappears as this man’s kiss tears all words and thoughts away. How can there be anything else when sensation overwhelms me the way he does? This guy knows how to kiss in a way that burrows straight through my clothes and onto my skin, firing desire despite the fact the only part of me touching him skin on skin are our lips.
“Jesus, get a room!” Martin’s voice jolts reality back in, the man I shared my kisses—and more—with until a couple of months ago. A secret pleasure at the annoyance in Martin’s voice thrills me.
I untangle my head and hands from Bryn’s and rub my lips together. My face smarts from the scratch of his scruff and the tingling extends into places I really shouldn’t pay attention to.
“Good idea, you coming, Avery?” Bryn has a cocky eyebrow, one that joins his constant so-called funny suggestiveness. How am I noticing this?
Probably time to leave.
“Sure,” I say.
“Cool.” He grabs my hand and twists me toward him into a smothering hug. His warm scent beneath the open leather jacket begs me to start kissing him again, so I pull away and step aside before I’m tempted to act on that.
Bryn calls a goodbye to Rachel and Simon, who are lost in their own world on the sofa, before looking to Taylor and Martin. “Nice to meet you; maybe we’ll catch up again sometime.”
Before anybody can ask questions or comment, I’m out of the flat door, jumping down the steps two at a time and attempting not to trip. Bryn’s heavy footsteps follow.
Pushing through the main door of the building and onto the street, I halt and wait. The door slams behind and I turn to a grinning Bryn.
“What the hell was that?” I say.
“What?” His face pulls into consternation.
“Kissing me!”
“Didn’t you like how I kiss? We can try again?”
Bryn steps closer, eyes shining. Omigod, he’s actually bloody serious.
“No!” I cross my arms. “I don’t kiss strangers.”
“I’m not strange.”
“Well, you’re not normal.”
“You’re funny.”
“You’re bloody annoying.”
“But my kissing is awesome, right?”
My cheeks fire. “Will you stop talking about kissing?”
