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His tongue didn’t have to battle with mine. I surrendered to him, allowing him to take control. Needing him to guide me to a place I felt like I’d never been before. One where I felt blissfully safe.
I moaned and slid my hands up to his shoulders, drawing my body closer. He spun us so my back was to the railing, blocking our kiss from the view of others with his height and broad shoulders.
His hands caressed my cheeks, then slipped down the sides of my arms. All without ever losing my mouth.
I arched against him, circling my hips in desperate need to feel his cock against my body, every part of me electric from his touch.
And God, was he hard.
“Talia,” he rasped, breaking contact for the first time. “Fuck.” Then he kissed me again. No tongue. Just slow, sensual kisses. Sweeps of his tongue cutting along the line of my mouth without actually going in. A hot-hot tease.
His hands tore through my hair, before he held my head in place, his lips going still against mine.
“Don’t,” I cried, knowing in my gut what this man was about to do.
Break my heart because of guilt. Because of loyalty to his brother.
I lightly shook my head, our foreheads touching again.
“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked with his delivery.
I had to stay strong.
No, screw that. I am strong.
I refused to crumple at the rejection I felt coming.
I pulled away, preparing myself for his next words.
When he eased back to find my eyes, a dark and haunted look greeted me. “Things are complicated right now. I shouldn’t have done that.” I lost his gaze to the dark sky. The muscle in his jaw beneath his five o’clock shadow strained. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy every second kissing you,” he returned in a low voice, his eyes finding mine again. “More than you can possibly know.”
I stiffened, unsure what to say. “We went from trying the friends thing to making out in public pretty fast.” I forced a small smile, and he brought his hand between us, dragging his thumb along my bottom lip.
I swallowed as I waited for his next move. Or his next act of rejection. Coin toss.
“You don’t need to fake smile for me.” His forehead tightened as he studied me. “I just—”
“Now that you’re done smoochy-smooching, can we go?” I flinched at Maria’s words, and Ryan shifted away from me so I could face her.
Smoochy-smooching, really? She definitely needed to get to bed, and soon. She’d be in hangover hell tomorrow, and I had a feeling it’d be way worse than mine was earlier.
Alongside Maria, Enzo’s lips tipped into an awkward smile, like he’d witnessed his little sister misbehaving, but he wouldn’t rat me out. Or punch Ryan in the face, thank God.
“Let’s get them home,” Enzo suggested, eyes on Ryan.
Ryan seemed to be considering his options, stroking his jaw without giving away anything in his expression.
Was he happy to have an escape plan from our conversation? Or had he wanted to finish our talk?
“Right,” Ryan finally said, then extended his arm, motioning for us to walk ahead of him into the club.
I snatched my clutch from the table, and followed Enzo inside.
While he paid for our VIP table tab, Maria and I grabbed our jackets from the coat check. I did my best to play it cool, and not act like the man had just had his tongue in my mouth.
Ryan helped me into my black leather jacket and freed my hair from the back of the collar. Then he quickly stepped away and retrieved his keys from his pocket. “We’re in the parking garage across the street. We’ll have to come back for Maria’s car tomorrow.”
“Becoming a habit,” Enzo bit out, his brows tight, as if angered by the idea we’d come alone to the city.
