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I flush instantly, feeling my face redden at the use of the word size as memories of last night flood my mind again. My cheeks are as bright as Miss Frizzle's hair after my ride on the magic school bus. His massive, perfectly sculpted cock comes to mind, and my throat is drier than the Mojave Desert.
I see him staring at me from the corner of my eyes, like there's something on the tip of his tongue. He leans in closer and I hold my breath, thinking he's coming in for a kiss. His lips brush against the edge of my ear as he whispers, “Are we good?”
I swallow and turn to face him. He leans back a little to allow me some space, but not much. Our noses are inches apart.
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly, quickly finding my voice again. “Because we have to be.”
I stare at him with wide eyes, almost warning him to keep to the agreement. He stares back, eyes going back and forth between mine. We’re trying to read each other’s minds. He's trying to gauge me, and I'm gauging him, but we're both coming up short.
He leans inward more, his lips parting slightly before he pulls back. I'm as still as concrete, watching him closely. The corner of his lips pull into a grin and his eyes twinkle with mischief again.
“It's the not being able to kiss you that makes me want to kiss you, you see?” he whispers before biting down on his bottom lip.
“Well, you can't,” I reply, clearing my throat and looking down at my lap to readjust my sweatshirt that doesn't need readjusting.
“But if I could, would you want me to?” he asks, leaning his shoulder into me, invading my airplane bubble.
The space is tight enough on this tiny airplane. Being enclosed in our own little section with someone who won't allow me oxygen is not helping. Deep waters, chest compressing, burning lungs.
“Lake,” I warn with a bite to my tone. “Don't even start.”
“Chill, D. You’re so tense right now,” he says humorously. “I'm just wondering if you'd actually want me to. Say we were just two people on a plane. Not Lake and Dylan. Just two random strangers who've realized they’re attracted to each other. Would you want a guy like me to kiss you?”
His soft, cracked tone, his gorgeous juicy lips when he talks, the way his thigh is now sealed to mine, not only the knee—it’s too much.
“No,” I say, opening my book back up and shoving my face into it.
He grips the top of the pages with his massive hand. The hand that was gripped so tightly around the back of my neck, pulling me down into his kiss as he entered me. He pulls the book down to my lap.
“You're lying.” He chuckles. “I know when you're lying now. You do this thing with your nose. You scrunch it up all cute, like you can smell your lies as they pour out of your mouth.”
“I don't do that.” I scowl as my nose twitches.
He leans in toward my ear again. “Just tell me you'd like it, D. Hypothetically, just two people sitting here, feeling each other. Tell me you'd let me kiss you,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath making me shiver. “Please?”
He shouldn't be allowed to use the word please. It's not fair. It's crippling. He could end wars with that one word alone.
I turn my head slightly, meeting his waiting eyes. Sighing in frustration at his annoying behavior, I nod my head, hoping to end this stupid conversation. That's all he gets. I'm not giving him the satisfaction of vocalizing my answer.
His face changes. He looks at me like I just admitted the most unthinkable thing. I feel bile rising in my throat. Embarrassment floods my cheeks before his smile returns.
“Thank God,” he breathes. “That's all I needed.”
As I'm about to say something smart back to the jerk who so easily got me to admit how weak I am, I'm surprised by the feel of his powerful hand on my jaw, followed by his soft, pillowy lips back on mine like they never left.
24
Dylan
Istiffenashisminty taste floods me. His large hand covers our faces as his tongue dips out and glides along mine. I melt yet again, my mouth deceiving the rest of me when it moves to kiss him back. It's a soft kiss, not like the heated passion of last night. No, this kiss is wrapped in care. Soft, sweet, delicate care. His tongue gently pulses against mine and his hand slowly slides along my jaw until he's cupping the side of my neck.
This kiss is the kind you wish to never have. You feel it in places you didn't know existed. Stretching to parts that will forever remember this and the way it changed you. Knowing it will be one of those moments you look back on when you're older, cementing in time.
This kiss is that. It's definable. I feel it everywhere. And nothing hurts worse.
With his hand behind my neck, he shifts his body to turn towards me. He presses his tender lips against mine and a needy moan leaves me. He swallows it in his next kiss, then prompts another from me, tightening his hand behind my neck until both hands are holding my head to his. He's doing that thing again. That thing where he devours me like I'm insatiable to him.
I'd never believed those books that described kisses that could make backgrounds fade, moments that make time cease to exist. But, I get it now. Everything around us somehow becomes blurry and unrecognizable, and it's just us in this little pocket of the airplane, connecting in this way that's all wrong for us.
