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“Looks like someone is watching out for me.”
“Because we’re stuck in an automatic car wash?”
He leans in close. “Because I have more time.” His eyes hold mine. “Perfection shouldn’t be rushed, Charlie.”
I find myself nodding in agreement, but Spencer takes that as my willingness to give him another shot to show me his kissing skills. He closes the small distance between us and presses his lips to mine.
Neither one of us moves at first, as we savor the feel of our lips pressing firmly together. My heart thunders in my chest, and I’m thankful for the loud machine surrounding us, hopeful he can’t hear the rapid beat. I’m ready to pull back when he slides his hand behind my neck and traces my lips with his tongue. I gasp, not expecting that move, and he slides his tongue smoothly past my lips, where it dances with mine.
I should stop this. I should pull back and tell him he’s a five at best, but that would be yet another lie. The truth is that Spencer Pennington is making love to my mouth right here in his car while sitting still in an automatic car wash. This is hands-down the best kiss of my entire life.
I’m kissing my rival.
And it’s turning my world upside down.
I make a mewling sound from somewhere in the back of my throat, and I know I should be embarrassed, and I’m sure I will be, just not right this moment. Not while he’s kissing me as if this might be the last kiss he ever gives or receives.
The hand on the back of my neck adjusts me so that my head is tilted, and he leans in closer. His body heat wraps around me, and I would never admit this out loud, but I could sit here in this car, kissing him like this every day of forever. So, yeah, if you were wondering, I’m kissing him back. I can’tnotkiss him back.
The car jerks as we once again start to move forward, and Spencer slows the kiss. When he finally pulls his mouth from mine, his eyes are so dark they almost appear to be black instead of the sparkling chocolate brown that I’m used to.
I part my lips to say something, anything, but I can’t seem to form a single word. Instead, I focus on deep, even breaths, even though my chest is now rising faster than it was when we pulled into this tunnel.
Spencer watches me, and I’m about to tell him he should look out in front of him. We have to be about done with this when his low, rumbled words fill the space around us. “So. Fucking. Sweet,” he says, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine once more.
This one is short. He moves back to his seat, resting his head back against the rest while I observe him intently. He closes his eyes for a few seconds before opening them just in time to watch the light turn green, telling us we can pull out of the tunnel.
He grips the wheel, and all that I can think about is those same hands gripping the back of my neck as he guided me to where he wanted me. We travel through town, and it’s not until he hits the highway that he speaks.
“Tell me.”
I clear my throat. “Tell you what?”
“Ten, right?” he asks. He glances over quickly before placing his gaze back on the road.
I have a choice here. I can tell him the truth and have to live with his smugness over the next several weeks, hell, for a lifetime, because telling him that it was the best kiss of my life surely would be something he would love to remind me of every chance he got.
Or, I can tell him he’s only slightly improved. I know him well enough to know that he’s going to want to try again. That he’s going to want to prove his skills, and just that simple thought sets a fire inside of me and has heat pooling between my thighs.
“Six.” The answer is out before I can stop it, and Lord help me, I have no regrets. Not if he kisses me like that the next time. Besides, I’ve already decided that I’ll be looking for new employment. I might as well enjoy being kissed like I’m the oxygen he needs to breathe and make the most out of having to spend time with him.
It’s just a few kisses. A game of sorts. What could it hurt?
“Six?” he asks in disbelief.
I shrug as if I’m unaffected, even though I’m anything but. “You improved.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
“Why would I lie? I’m sorry that you can’t handle the truth, Spencer.” I’m probably going to hell, but it’s just a little white lie. No one is getting hurt unless you count his ego, and then we might have a problem.
“No fucking way, Charlie. That was—” He stops himself. “That was not a six, and you know it.”
“Better luck next time,” I say, teasing him.
“Is that a challenge?”
“What? No. It’s just a figure of speech.”
