Twisted Bliss (Imperfection Perfection #2)

“I know the guy at the front desk.”


“Oh. Well, so great seeing you…gotta run…bye.” I brushed past him but didn’t make it very far before he grabbed my elbow, twisting me around so I was flush against his body. I looked everywhere but in those eyes of his. I knew if I even glanced there, I was done for.

He leaned forward, closing the little distance that was between us. “I think we need to talk.” His mouth brushed ever so lightly against the most sensitive part of my ear, and I pulled back, my eyes wide. I’m pretty sure he could hear my heart, that’s how rapidly it was beating at the moment. It felt like it was trying to pound straight out of my chest.

“Um….” I let out a nervous laugh, slowly backing toward the hallway so I could escape to the women’s locker rooms. “I don’t think talking would be a very good idea right now.” I spun around once I realized my feet were right at the threshold of the hallway and darted into it.

“Della. Stop.” This time his hand landed on my wrist, and after quite a bit of tugging, I realized I wasn’t going to get anywhere quick. I could try pulling him all the way to the locker room behind me, but knowing Justin, he would probably follow me in there anyway. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine.”

“Okay, then let me—” I lost my train of thought because all of a sudden he had my body pushed back into the wall, pinning me against it with his body. I realized I was holding my breath, so I exhaled before inhaling again, which was a mistake, because all I could smell was Justin. There was that smell of his, mixed with just a hint of smoke. I never thought I would actually find that smell appealing.

He placed one finger over my lips. “I’m okay with not talking.” His finger slid down slowly, running along my neck, then to my collarbone, and continuing until his hand landed on my hip. My skin was on fire from those simple touches, and I squirmed when his other hand landed on my lower back. I knew what was coming, but there was no way to prepare myself. I could fight him, kick him in the balls, yell at him, something, but I didn’t do any of that. I wanted this—so bad that I could practically taste it.

His head finally dipped forward, and from there on out it was like we were in a hurried frenzy, trying to pack everything we had missed from being away from each other into that one kiss. I grabbed at the back of his neck to bring him closer, his tongue darting out to lick the seam of my lips, like he needed to pry them open, but I was more than willing. I sighed into his mouth when his tongue entered, reintroducing itself to mine, stroking back and forth, memorizing every inch once again, and I savored the taste.

I couldn’t get enough.

My hips arched into him, and he ground his hardness against the thin material of my shorts. His hand moved to the band on my shorts just as I heard someone loudly snickering, and I suddenly remembered where we were. I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment before reopening them and looking over Justin’s shoulder.

There were two clearly entertained guys around my age standing behind him, both of them smiling widely. I was surprised there wasn’t any drool running down their chins. I gave them the finger as they continued to stare, but Justin ignored them, not even bothering to turn around as he slid my body sideways along the wall until we reached a door that he opened with one hand.

“So, where were we?” he asked after locking the door behind us. I think we were in a supply closet or something, but I wasn’t given time to form a sarcastic response before his mouth once again crashed into mine, our tongues meeting forcefully.

He lifted me up without breaking our kiss, bracing his hands on my hips, and I immediately wrapped my legs around his waist. He kept walking around the tiny space until I felt something behind me, and he sat me down on what felt like a countertop. I really couldn’t tell because my senses honed in on what he was doing to my mouth—my whole body, really. He was setting off every nerve, just by the stroke of his tongue, but I had a feeling he wanted to do a whole lot more.

“I missed this so much, Della,” he murmured against my mouth, his hands stroking up and down the sides of my stomach. “I missed you so much.” His warm hands again stopped at the band of my shorts, and this time, he gave a slight tug and I helped him along by wiggling my hips.

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