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I didn’t know if she felt how much I wanted her, if she knew. And when she pulled her hair to the side, I bent down and licked the tender part of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin on my tongue.
I pulled her against me, against my hardness, and an audible gasp escaped her lips. I smiled.
I wasn’t drunk by any means, but I had had three beers, and I knew she was sober because she’d only had one.
“Austin …” She turned around, her eyes hesitant but still full of lust, matching mine.
I knew what she would say. I could read it in the span of hazel eyes looking up at me, but I didn’t give her a chance to speak. I bent down and kissed her hard, not the sweet peck I had given her earlier, but a hot and heavy kiss that had me thinking and wanting one thing—her. I threaded my hand through her hair and tilted her head back, so I could kiss her deeper. She tasted like everything I needed in my life—sunshine, air, sweetness.
When she pushed at my chest, my lips pressed to her neck again.
“What are we doing?” she breathed, hanging on to my arms as though she were going to fall.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for …” Well, I couldn’t finish that because I wasn’t sure. I’d been denying my feelings for so long. My mouth descended on hers again, and I was like a hungry man having the first meal of his life.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, Austin.” She said one thing, but her body melted against mine, sending me a different signal.
“Do you want me to stop?”Say no.
“No …” She laughed. “But …”
I flicked my tongue over the seam of her lips, tasting her fully, pushing her against the railing. She moaned against my mouth and met every flick of my tongue with a matching sweep of hers.
Damn, she was delicious. I could taste the beer she’d just drunk.
And I wanted more.
So much fucking more.
I squeezed her breast, and then I trailed a hand down her body. “I want you, Sydney.”
“We shouldn’t,” she breathed against my lips, and yet her lips pressed to mine again.
I didn’t stop kissing her, even when my hand dipped lower, making it up her skirt to the apex of her legs.
I rubbed against her, on the outside of her silk panties, until her breathing was labored. And when her eyes fell shut and she tilted her head back, I slipped a finger under her panties.
“You’re so fucking wet,” I groaned, nipping at her ear.
I slipped a second finger in her, pumping in and out, creating this delicious tempo that matched the bass of the music.
We were so high up that no one would be able to see us.
The atmosphere around us was deafening, invigorating, exciting. The crowd roared below us, the music blasted in the background, and my fingers strummed against Sydney’s clit.
Her head flew back, and I could feel her tighten against my fingers. She was close.
“Austin … omigod.”
And I decided I wanted to watch her come undone.
“I don’t think this is a …” She couldn’t finish her sentence as I covered her mouth with mine.
My fingers pumped faster, harder, and a last flick of my finger against her clit sent her over.
Her orgasm seemed to last forever until she went limp against the railing. I pulled her against me, sitting us both down and lifting her leg over my lap so she was straddling me as she came down from her high.
When she lifted her head, she tore her gaze away from mine, looking dazedly at nothing over my shoulder.
