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His breath, which rushed out his nose. I couldn’t tell if he was awake or asleep, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was containing the sense of anxiety and panic that was slowly turning into something much more dangerous.
The sounds of his mattress creaking when he began to move, pulling me closer to him and running a large hand up my arm. And finally, the loud banging of my heart, which was echoing through my ears like a drum.
Loud.
Hard.
Erratic.
Two things I could smell.
Him. His cologne mixed with the natural masculine scent of him. It was a mix of sweet and spicy that made my mouth water. His room smelled a bit like the garage—all gasoline and motor oil with just hint of fresh laundry from his bedding.
One thing I could taste.
The panic was long gone. The anxiety turned into something else entirely.
Anticipation.
Longing.
Excitement.
My body was humming in joy, crying for him between my thighs. My heart was destroying my ribs as it ransacked them with every beat it took.
Leaning over, I ran my lips across his. They were soft and warm. His breath tickled my cheeks when he exhaled through his nose. I was going to taste him. He would be the one pleasure I allowed myself while all the terrible was going on in my life.
One kiss with Aiken.
My lips were already whispering against his. All I had to do was apply more pressure. But before I could, he leaned up and captured my lips, kissing me deep and hard. I moaned against his mouth, prompting him to flip me over onto my back.
It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. He was hard to my soft. Strong to my weak. Any thought of anxiety or panic dissolved and flittered away. My nails dug into his shoulder blades, pulling him closer.
He growled against my lips, the sound striking me and moving down my body like a lightning bolt until it exploded out of my clit, which was throbbing so hard I felt as if I were close to an orgasm and he had barely touched me.
“Fuck,” he breathed against my lips before he moved away and sucked at the side of my neck.
The breath from his nose tickled the spot beneath my ear, whispering to me and making me shiver.
“This is so fucking wrong,” he said against my flesh.
No.
There was no way something wrong could feel that way.
“Don’t stop,” I begged.
His hand slid down my stomach, his fingers dipping into the waist of my jeans as his mouth moved even lower, pushing the collar of my shirt down until he was sucking at my cleavage and making me moan. My stomach sucked in when he circled my navel with his finger.
“You like that?” he asked. “Does it feel good when I touch you?”
I nodded, my hair brushing against the pillow.
“Words, Everly. Give me your words.”
“Yes. God, yes, it feels amazing.”
He hummed his approval.
