Page 62 of Hate You Always


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“One hundred percent.”

He snorts and some of the heaviness that had descended during our conversation lifts. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

I shake my head. “Why is that a fantasy for so many guys?”

“Really?” He arches a brow. “Do you actually have to ask?”

I roll my eyes as a smile hovers around the corners of my lips. “I suppose not.” There’s a pause, and the question tumbles out of my mouth before I can think better of it. “I suppose that’s something you’ve already done.” I cringe, unsure if I want to know the answer.

He shrugs as his tone stays even. “Once or twice. It’s definitely an experience but not something I’m into.”

My hand falls away from his face before it finds my other one and twists together in my lap. “I must seem pretty inexperienced in comparison.”

Dull.

The fingers wrapped around my shoulder rise before settling beneath my chin, lifting it until I have no other choice but to meet the intensity of his stare. Even in the darkness, it feels as if he’s able to sift through my eyes and read my innermost thoughts.

Not only is it disconcerting, it leaves me feeling stripped bare. Vulnerable. No one has ever had the power to do that.

“I don’t think that at all.”

Heat stings my cheeks. “Right.”

He inches closer until the warmth of his breath can feather across my lips. “The amount of experience you have is perfect. There’s not a damn thing wrong with it.”

His fingers continue to hold my chin in a firm grip. The feel of them singes my skin, making me even more hyperaware of the contact. “Just like you said, I’ve spent these last three years studying. Getting up on that stage tonight showed me just how much life I’ve missed out on.”

“Isn’t that the reason we’re working on your list?”

Even in the darkness that presses in on us, the intensity in his blue eyes shines brightly. “Yeah.”

When his mouth ghosts over mine, barely stirring the air around us, my eyelids feather closed.

“Maybe we’ll even add a few things to it,” he whispers.

Before I can ask what he has in mind, his tongue softly sweeps over the seam of my lips. It’s not a conscious decision to open, it just happens. There’s nothing rushed about his gentle exploration. It’s as if we have all the time in the world. That’s all it takes for my brain to click off as sensation explodes through me, rocking me to my very core.

I’ve spent days thinking about the kiss in the library. Wondering if it was as good as I remember. Honestly, I’ve tried like hell to convince myself that it wasn’t.

If anything, this caress is even more devastating.

His fingers remain locked around my chin as he slants his mouth one way and then another, taking the kiss deeper. His other hand slips into my hair, wrapping around the back of my head as if to hold me firmly in place.

It’s totally unnecessary.

There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with him.

He breaks contact long enough to mutter, “Your mouth is so damn sweet.”

Barely am I given a chance to suck in a lungful of air when he’s back, assaulting my senses, pulling me under until it feels like I’ve been deprived of all oxygen.

And then, I’m drowning.

I don’t realize that my arms have slipped around his neck until a growl escapes from him. Both hands drop to my waist as he drags me onto his lap. Once I’m straddling his thighs, he shifts me around and pulls me closer so that his hard length is nestled snugly against the V between my legs. The feel of his cock has arousal exploding in my core, and a whimper of need rises in my throat.

His fingers curl, biting into my waist before slipping beneath my sweater and stroking up my ribcage until they reach the elastic band of my bra. He strums the material as his gaze stays pinned to mine.

“Please,” I whisper. My voice comes out sounding so guttural that I barely recognize it as my own.

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