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Very real.
My nails touched his lips.
He playfully bit at my fingertips, curling his lip when he did so.
“Oh, Seb,” I whispered.
That’s when his mouth crashed down to mine.
A much different kiss occurred than the one when he kissed me outside the locker room or when I kissed him back in the apartment.
If we were supposed to kiss back and forth to make it even, it was impossible to figure out who had the last kiss.
Our tongues wrestled and lips moved…
My hands fell to my sides as though I had passed out.
My upper back arched a little, almost instinctively needing him to feel my breasts press against him.
It felt horribly stupid and cliché to label it asthe best kiss of my life, but what was I supposed to call it?
If Seb only knew how many pillows I had made out with, pretending it was him…
I groaned and whimpered at the same time.
Seb put me back on my feet.
His right hand moved up my body, over my shirt, inching closer to my breasts.
Oh my god, yes. Please, Sebby. Touch me. Touch me there. Touch me between my legs. Touch me everywhere…
I was suddenly an erotic poet in my mind.
Seb’s hand rested an inch below my left boob and he stopped.
His grip tightened a little and I gasped and wiggled, trying not to burst out laughing because it tickled.
“What the fuck is happening right now?” Seb asked.
He licked his lips.
His eyes were as wide as ever.
I stepped back and bumped into the couch.
Seb ran a hand through his hair.
“I can’t control myself, April,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” I said.
“I’ve been controlling myself from the second I saw you.”
“What does that mean?”
Seb moved closer to me again.
He touched my face.
