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A tiny grin curved one corner of his mouth, drawing her attention there. “You were.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well! Of course I was. You’re my roommate. If you die I have to find someone else to help pay rent in this overpriced condo.”
He took a step forward, his grin widening as he shook his head. “No, I think it’s more than that. You were worried about Graham, the person. Not Graham, your roommate.”
She didn’t blink as he took another step closer. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
She’d quickly lost control of the situation and desperately tried to think of how to get it back.
He was right; she had been worried about him.
But it was more than that. She’d never told him the details of her dad’s death and didn’t intend to talk about it now, but the truth was that history made her hypersensitive to situations like these.
“Admit it,” he continued, his voice softening as he stopped about a foot away. “You care about me, Claire. A lot.”
His brown eyes held a spark and a challenge, which was familiar and welcome in her flustered state. This back-and-forth felt normal, and it hit home just how much she needed this and how important Graham was to her. After the emotional whiplash of the last few hours, the realization caused something inside her to snap.
She was pissed off, but she was so happy he wasokay. Ever since she’d heard the wordsfirefighter injured, she’d battled images of Graham coming through the ER doors on a stretcher. She was mentally and emotionally spent and had very little filter left, in voice or action.
She would later blame her state of mind on what happened next as she lurched forward, grabbed his rough cheeks between her palms, and kissed him.
Graham sucked in a sharp breath and froze, his body going taut. She pulled back, the separation of their lips sending a faint wet sound echoing in the silence. Before she could fully process what she’d done and take it back, claiming momentary insanity, his face came into focus.
All awareness slipped away with her surprised exhale.
The way Graham was looking at her...
His ever-smiling mouth was slack and devoid of the quick, sarcastic words she’d come to expect. His pupils dilated and his usually playful eyes were dark and ominous.
Her heart pounded as his gaze dragged down her face, from her eyes to her lips, where they lingered for a long moment before slowly scrolling back up. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he stared at her, brow furrowed, as if seeing her for the first time.
Time stopped as they stood inches apart, his breath warm against her lips, chest brushing hers with each inhale. Heat rippled through her as she feltwantrolling off him in thick waves.
Just when she’d decided she had to say or dosomething, Graham leaped into action. His mouth came back to hers, warm and hard and unyielding. His hands were in her hair, and his strong fingers threading between the strands sent a shiver racing down her spine. She gripped his shirt in her fists and pulled him along as she stumbled backward. She stopped when she hit the dresser and his body molded to hers, as if he couldn’t get close enough.Yes, closer.Something fell and hit the floor with a crash, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
Exactly like she’d pictured them in the hospital supply closet scenario, damn him.
She definitely liked what he was doing and must have made some enthusiastic moan or murmur or something, because he hummed against her lips and slid one hand in the small space between the drawers and her lower back, arching her hips into him.
Her body threw caution to the wind and chose to ignore that which had just been discussed: Graham was her roommate, whom she decidedly did not care about.
Definitely nota lot.
He had great lips, though. She’d always loved his smile—one of those ridiculously wide ones that was nearly impossible not to respond to. Channeled James Marsden inThe Notebookor27 Dresses.
As it turned out, smiling wasn’t all his mouth was good for.
The man knew how to use it, and she melted against him with each passing second. Any moment now she’d come to her senses and push him away. Maybe slap him just to be contrary, even though she’d started it. But then his tongue slid across her lower lip and she trembled, opening her mouth and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Later. She’d put a stop to this later.
She bit at his lower lip and he growled into her mouth, grabbing her hips and lifting her onto the dresser. Of their own accord her legs cinched around his waist, pulling him closer.Shit, he smelled good. Like the outdoors and some manly bodywash.
Did he always smell like this? She hadn’t been in this position before to notice. As in literally up against him, his tongue moving with hers and his body between her thighs.
Damn, those lips were really, really good. His chest pressed against hers as he ravaged her mouth like he was an addict and she was his drug of choice. Her brain had short-circuited and her pulse spiraled out of control. What were her hands doing? Shit, was that his ass (correction: firm ass) underneath her palm?
A rumble vibrated deep in his chest and he shifted his pelvis.
