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That last thought burned itself into my brain before he dipped his head to erase the few millimeters separating our mouths. I could move, I could have shifted my head. The thought turned to cinders as his lips massaged mine. The touch was just barely there, and his hands didn’t land on my skin.
Every other time he’d kissed me, he’d grabbed me and hauled me close. Sometimes it was my face. Other times my body, this time? The only point of contact was our lips. The damp hair on my shoulders and the wet towel between us didn’t even seem a deterrent.
The stroke of his tongue seeking access entranced with the delicate, teasing taste he took. I rocked back a step and he followed, like a magnet keeping him in my orbit.
Fuck, this is a terrible idea…
Didn’t stop me from parting my lips to suck at his tongue as he plunged it against my own. He tasted like sugar cookies and coffee. Hints of cinnamon and chocolate. Dessert.
Goddammit, he tasted like dessert. I lifted a hand to his head and when my fingers brushed against his face, he pressed a little closer and then I fisted his hair even as he locked a hand on my chin, using his thumb to tip my head back further.
A groan vibrated out of my throat as our tongues dueled. He wasn’t trying to take over, but I found myself sinking deeper into the sensual haze conjured by his kiss. When my back hit the cold wall, the contrasting sensations had my hand slipping on my towel.
“Lachlan,” I said in the brief respite where he let me get air. The pressure of his body against mine locked the towel in place as I pressed a hand to his chest. To push him away? Pull him closer?
Fuck, I had no idea. The scorch of wanting him seemed to consume me. And I’d never craved being burned so badly.
Curling my fingers into his shirt, I dragged him closer and he slid a hand down my arm, to my side and then to my hip. He left a trail of fire everywhere he touched. My thighs were taut and I ached for more.
“I’m here, Ace,” he whispered, nipping my lower lip as he tightened his hand on my hip. “Trying not to—fuck me, touch, but you’re so fucking gorgeous.”
The towel slid away and then I was locked against him, the fabric of his now-damp shirt a fresh torment for my nipples. I dug my nails into his nape as his mouth fused over mine.
Need ignited in my system like someone poured kerosene on it. I wanted to climb him as he ground against me. The heat in my body was such a sharp contrast to the chill, that I needed both. When he slid his hand down to cup my thigh and lift it, I gasped against his mouth.
The roughness of his jeans against the inside of my thighs and the dampness of my pussy was enough to make me shudder all over again. It was embarrassing, yet I wanted more. He sucked on my tongue as he thrust his hips against mine. Awareness of his erection swept through me as he ground against me. It was almost too much and at the same time not enough.
When he cupped my breast though, it sent an electric shockwave through me and I jerked my head back. The light impact with the wall helped to knock some sense back into me.
I licked my lips as Lachlan stared down at me. The weight of his hand on my breast was a brand. The teasing pass of his calloused thumb over my nipple was a fresh charge that seemed to send a bolt straight through me. Liquid heat pooled in my stomach.
“What are we doing?” I asked in a horrifically hoarse voice.
“Living out my fantasies,” Lachlan said, his own lips glistening from our kiss. He rolled his hips, the pressure against my pussy enough to make me close my eyes as he pinched the nipple.
Competing sensations rioted in my system. First kiss. First petting… My Douchebag Ninja was taking a lot of liberties.
“Stop,” I whispered, proud that my voice didn’t quaver. His hand froze on my breast, and I could almost picture the exact outline from the heat of his palm. He stood there, resting against me, but not moving. “Thank you.”
“This is still…” he began and I almost laughed, because it was still too much.
“What are we doing?” I repeated my earlier question and then dragged a hand from his hair to press two fingers against his lips. “Don’t say fantasies again because you hated me last year even when you were hitting on me, and I have no fucking clue what you’re doing right now beyond trying to drive me mad.”
Not that it was a long trip at the moment.
I was pretty sure I’d already crashed into the insanity train head on. I was currently craving more contact, not less, with one of my tormentors andstepbrothers.
The guy who lied to me and used what he knew about me against me. A guy who helped to dump paint all over me, ruining an outfit, not to mention threw me in a fucking pond.
Oh, right, and cut my bra off so he could look at my tits. Then there was stalking me in L.A. and finally outing me at the dance club.
The litany of his various comments and actions helped to cool the ardor he’d fanned to life. I swallowed as he brushed a kiss to my fingers.
“This isn’t why I came,” he admitted. The low, husky quality to his voice promised he was every bit as affected as I was. But was there a camera somewhere? A phone to record us? Was I going to see photos of us pop up somewhere?
“So, you broke into my room for another reason?” Sue me, I was curious.
A corner of his mouth tilted up as he studied me. His hand was still right there, on my breast, but he wasn’t moving it. “Pretty sure I had a reason. Fuck knows, I can’t think of it right now. All I want is to kiss you again and touch you…and I want to taste—”
