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The kiss ends way to soon as my orgasm hits without any skin to skin contact. I moan, “Oh dear God.”
My lids finally open to his sexy smile and his hoarse voice. “Not God, but the next best thing.”
Embarrassment heats my face, but he cups my cheek then lands a peck to my swollen lips.
“Come on, let me walk you to your door.”
He helps me off his lap and holds his finger up for me to wait. He comes around the Rover with his finger tracing his own lips.
Did he love it as much as I did? Should I invite him inside?
Panic climbs from the pit of my stomach. What do I do now? Butterflies flap their wings taking over my body. He opens the door giving me one hand to climb out. I don’t see many guys being gentlemanly these days. His brother was the same way with his wife. From what I’ve seen he has a good family. A good support system. Sadness creeps into my thoughts before Hagan breaks me free as we reach my apartment.
“I better get home.” But then he adds, “We have a lot to think about.”
Hagan’s hands hover over my hair, bouncing them against the long strands sticking straight up from static electricity. He pulls me into a hug, snorting when my hairs tickle his nose.
I press my hands against his hard chest and all I can think about is what lies beneath his clothing. Of course, I’ve seen him without a shirt for a moment at his house that night, but I mean lower. I’m wondering what is lower. What’s underneath that zipper? Suddenly my confidence soars. “What’s there to think about?” I ask as I raise my eyebrow.
“That kiss—Adalee. Damn, I’ll be thinking about that in the shower tonight.”
His smile gleams like moonlight shimmering on the water. Hagan walks backward two steps before turning around. I swear I hear him mumble, “Maybe forever.”
* * *
Sleep alludesme because Ginger and Joe return home from the party, and they’re going at it like rabbits. They’re in the den having sex. How do I know that? Because our cheap Ikea couch is scooting across the faux hardwood floor. Instead of being upset, I’m happy for them. I hope to have a relationship like that with Hagan. Giving myself completely to someone never felt right.
I’ve been so worried that Hagan is like every other cocky athlete on campus that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. I lie back on my bed, grabbing my pink fuzzy pillow and pulling it into my chest. Do I dare dream?
I close my eyes and my mind roams to Hagan in the shower—thinking about me. My core clenches. A need so powerful consumes me. I decide to take matters into my own hands. My fingers slip inside my panties, rubbing in circles…but it’s not enough.
Maybe if I could hear his voice?
I can’t get there. Frustrated, I stop and slam my hand against the floral sheets. I look to my phone on the white nightstand. Snatching it, I look up pics from his social media posts. I see a picture from Archer and Megan’s wedding. They have enough money to get married anywhere, and they choose a baseball field.
I want a love like that. One that is so consuming that nothing else matters as long as we’re together. The kiss Hagan and I shared tonight felt that way.
There’s a post from the summer with another guy and two girls at the beach. I wonder who they are. Why aren’t they tagged? Does he know how social media works?
One thing is clear, Hagan is cut from stone. Dark delicious stone. Adorned with unusual golden brown eyes, and a smile that could light up New York City and dimples that frame it.
Hagan’s name lights up on my phone. Think of the devil, and I mean that in the dreamiest way. It’s two in the morning. “Hey.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No.” Feeling brave, I hit the video call option. It fades and then his face appears with a broad, ear-splitting grin on his face. As if he recognizes how that kiss affected me and turned into me dry humping him in the parking lot when there was a perfectly warm and spacious apartment twenty feet away.
“Miss me already?” he asks, then winks at me.
The answer is obvious. I’m up at two in the morning and needed more than just a voice. I need him to fill as many senses as possible. I’ll have to settle for just hearing and seeing. “Yes,” I say before biting my lip looking away from the camera.
He makes me feel powerful, waiting on me to steer our conversation. The jumbled bundle of nerves in my core throbs just hearing his scratchy,I’m in bedvoice. Tonight, I’m burning up wanting more from him and with him. Feeling gutsy, I ask, “How was your shower?”
He visibly gasps and his mouth hangs open for a second before he regains his swagger.
“Hot.” He licks those raspberry lips. “Wet.”
His arm is bent with his hand behind his head and cocksure of what his dirty mouth is doing to me. I grab my nipple through the thin camisole, I’m wearing. Rubbing. Oh jeez. What am I doing?
