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“I don’t know why I’m crying,” I mumbled against him a few minutes later.
When I leaned back to peer up at him, his cheeks were damp with tears as well.
“I don’t know either. I miss you,” he said, his gaze boring into mine with such intensity, it took my breath away.
It was my turn to babble. “I missed you. I miss your texts and everything. You haven’t sent me a silly picture or a stupid meme or told me what you were annoyed with in too long. I thought we had ruined everything.”
I felt him take a deep breath and took my own. Just then, his stomach growled, and I grinned up at him. “Are you starving? Because I was going to order room service, and I never did because I haven’t had an appetite, but now I could really use something to eat.”
“Let’s do it.”
Since it was so late, our room service arrived quickly. It felt like old times. We had the television on while lounging on the bed.Thatwas a distinction. Before this whole thing started, when we were just friends, we would’ve been watching a show and laughing about it and eating room service, except we would’ve been sitting on the couch. Instead, we were on the bed together, stealing little touches here and there. Underlying all of this was a combination of intense emotion spun within the comfort and sturdy foundation of our friendship.
I would probably always wonder if this possibility for us had been there all along, yet we’d both ignored it. Perhaps we hadn’t allowed it to flourish because it was too risky, too much of a threat to our friendship that mattered so much.
“Were you asleep?” Kenan asked after we had wheeled the room service cart out into the hallway.
“When?”
“When I knocked on the door.”
All we had left from our late-night dinner was a bowl of chocolate mousse, which we had decided to share. Kenan glanced down to carefully scoop some of the mousse.
He held it up for me. “Want a bite?”
“Please.” He held the spoon up for me, and I leaned closer. The rich, ridiculously decadent chocolate flavor broke across my tongue, and I couldn’t help but moan.
His eyes darkened as he slipped the spoon out of my mouth before helping himself to a bite.
A moment later, he prompted, “You haven’t told me if you were asleep.”
I met his gaze as I shook my head. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Neither have I.”
“I missed you,” I said quietly. The words felt too inadequate to describe just how deeply I’d missed him. My heart tumbled in my chest. I had missed him soverymuch.
Kenan looked at me, quiet for several beats of my heart. He glanced down as he shifted to place the small bowl on the nightstand before turning back to face me.
“I missed you more than I thought it was possible to miss anyone.” He lifted a hand, brushing my hair away from my cheek. His fingers slid through the ends of my hair before tracing a line along my collarbone.
Just a single fingertip and his touch felt like fire burning across my skin. I couldn’t look away. The moment felt suspended and caught a shimmer of sparks. Another moment later, he shifted closer, whispering against my lips, “I love you, Quinn.”
My words were lost in our kiss as he brought his mouth to mine in a slow, sensual kiss. It was the most intense kiss I had ever experienced, a slow, breath-stealing, heart-pounding, claiming kiss. All things considered, it was a good thing we were already on the bed. Because I couldn’t have held myself up.
ChapterForty
QUINN
Kenan made love to me. It felt as if every touch shared was a form of communication of sheer, fierce, raw, unguarded love and utterly pure lust.
His palm slid down to cup my breast, and his thumb teased over a nipple. His mouth closed with warm suction over the other nipple. Sparks leaped over my skin as his touch slid over my belly, strong and sure. His fingers dipped between my thighs where I was slick with arousal and near desperate for him.
The brushing sensation of his calloused palm when he pushed my knees apart and dropped kisses like hot honey on the insides of my thighs before he brought his mouth to my sex. He licked into my very core, bringing me to an intense climax until I was trembling all over and pleading for him. Because I needed more. I needed to be joined with him as closely as possible.
Finally,finally, he shifted and turned until I was straddling him. He was propped against the pillows, looking deep into my eyes. “Just like this,” he whispered.
I felt the thick press of his crown at my entrance as I slid down, slowly sheathing him in the heart of me. I felt the press of his fingertips on my hips as he nudged deeper. “Here, just you, just us,” he rasped.
