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“Can I see yours?” I asked, my stomach twisting with nerves again despite myself.
He picked up the pad from where he’d set it beside him and flipped it over to face me. I tried to draw in a breath, but it got caught in my chest.
I don’t know what I’d expected, but this wasn’t it. He’d chosen my mouth, and rather than do a single detailed study, the page was filled with sketch after sketch of my lips. I’d been trying to hold still as I worked so he could draw me, but I hadn’t realized how much I must have been moving my face, because each sketch was different. My lips were pursed in one, the barest hint of the curve of my cheek showing. In another, my bottom lip was drawn in between my teeth as I concentrated. In a third, the tip of my tongue poked out to moisten my lips. In yet another, my face was relaxed, but a few strands of hair were caught on my bottom lip.
I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it again and dragged my eyes up to meet his gaze.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said.
I shook my head.
“You have a very expressive face,” he said. “Your lips move a lot when you’re concentrating.” His eyes moved down to my mouth, and my breath hitched. I knew he’d been staring at my mouth for the past half hour, but I couldn’t help but think of that moment in my room just before he’d gone out the window. It hadn’t been a kiss, though it had been close.
I wondered if he thought about that moment as much as I did. If he wondered what my lips would feel like against his. If he wanted to touch them as much as I wanted to touch his hand.
He answered my silent questions a second later when the hand in question came up and his fingertips traced the curve of my lower lip. And then he leaned closer, his mouth met mine, and I no longer had to wonder what he was thinking.
16
It wasn’t as if I’d never been kissed before. I’d had boyfriends on and off for much of the previous two years, and I’d even managed to lose my virginity to one of them in a supremely awkward and completely cliché encounter in the back of his car after junior prom.
But when Micah’s lips slanted over mine and his big hand came up to cup the back of my head and tangle in my hair, it became very clear that whatever kissing experience I’d thought I had was nothing at all when compared to this.
I gasped in shock as a red-hot wave of lust shot through me, pooling low in my stomach, and he took the opportunity to run the tip of his tongue across my lower lip before delving inside. I nearly fainted at the feel of his tongue sweeping against mine, and a low moan escaped me. His kiss wasn’t tentative or gentle, not the sweet, hesitant first kiss of a shared attraction being tested. No, this kiss was white-hot and electric, full of promises and demands, and there was nothing I could do but surrender to it entirely.
My hands found purchase against his chest, fisting in his shirt—to hold him close or to keep from falling, I wasn’t sure—and I could feel his heartbeat against my hand, thundering as fast as mine. Beneath the shirt was a wide expanse of solid muscle, and I reveled in the feel of it, releasing my grip to spread my hands wide as if to touch as much of him as possible.
His hands wandered too. One threaded through my hair, tugging until my ponytail came loose, then tangling through the long strands, while the other came up to brush my cheek, trace my jaw, tip my head for better access, even while his lips slid against mine and our tongues tangled together.
Heat swirled in me, and I never wanted it to end.
By the time he pulled away, our breaths were coming heavy and fast, and I could feel the flush in my cheeks. The gaze he directed at me was sinful, his eyes heavy with desire, and I wanted to dive forward, drag him back to me, and lose myself in the heat of him until we both died of exhaustion or starvation.
“You said you wanted things to go back to the way they were,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.
I nodded.
“Well, I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”
I swallowed thickly. “I’m glad you did.” I cocked my head to the side. “Are you going to get in trouble with Garrett for this?” I was half joking, half serious, but the look he leveled on me took my breath away.
“Fuck him,” he said, and pulled my face back up to his.
* * *
We barely made it to our next class in time, and when I returned to my room at the end of the day, you’d think I’d have been floating on cloud nine. But in reality, I felt more conflicted than ever. That really put a wrench in my plans.
On the one hand, I knew it didn’t really make a difference. It wasn’t like whatever this was with Micah should figure into my plans. We were on completely different paths in life—hell, I didn’t even have the slightest clue what his plans were—but regardless of whether I left or if I stuck it out until graduation, there wouldn’t ever be anything long term between us.
Besides, it was one kiss—well, lots of kisses actually, and they’d been pretty fucking hot—but either way, it was nothing to start building a future on. And I still had my plans. Back to California, where the world made sense. Back to Masterworks Ink, and to Ian, who I’d never even had a chance to say goodbye to before I’d been dragged away. And onwards to a tattoo apprenticeship, and a life surrounded by art and familiarity and the legacy of my parents. I couldn’t give that up. Not to mention that the opportunity to get far away from Drew was hard to pass up.
Of course, on the other hand, that kiss had turned my world upside-down, and there was no part of me that didn’t want more. The very idea of leaving in less than a week and not being able to follow that attraction to its logical conclusion was enough to tie my stomach in knots.
Ugh.
Too wrapped up in my own head to be good company, I muttered something about homework and fled to the suite the second dinner was over. Safe in my room with the door locked, I paced until my feet began to hurt, then sat on the bed and stared out over the water. Then I paced some more.
I had come to the conclusion that I was being completely ridiculous, and I should just go to bed and avoid my own thoughts until morning, when a slamming door jerked me out of my head.
