The man actually had the good grace to look sheepish then.
“It’s too personal, isn’t it?”
He snorted. “That’s fucking crazy, how can it be too personal? I’m happy to lick your *, so why I would be afraid of your face?”
“You tell me.”
Apparently, he decided not to, for his lips stayed firmly shut.
“I want to kiss you, Jimmy. I’ve wanted to for forever. Kiss me?”
Brows drawn down, he gave me a frown instead.
“Come here, it’s okay.” I grabbed the front of his T-shirt, pulling him forward. “It’s just me.”
He gave a bare inch or two. “I’m just not that into it. It’s not a big deal, everyone likes different shit, you know?”
“I know.” I drew him a little closer. “I just, I need to know what your lips taste like.”
“The other girls never cared. It’s not like I left them wanting, I made sure they came.”
“That’s good.” And a bit closer.
“I just … you know, I don’t want to be getting in someone’s face, getting all up close to them. I don’t like it. I’ve kissed girls before. I have done it, just never really got into it.”
“Okay.” Slowly, I dragged him in until our noses were close to bumping. Let me tell you, he was one unhappy camper. “We’ll just kiss a little bit. It’s not a big deal.”
“No, I know.” He pouted.
“And if you really don’t like it, I’ll stop.”
A hesitant nod.
Sweetly, softly, I pressed my lips against the edge of his mouth. Both of us kept our eyes open the entire time. He licked his lips and let out a breath. When he made no immediate move to launch himself off of the bed and escape, I dared try again. A single kiss against his beautiful bottom lip. He flinched, but didn’t retreat.
I tilted my head, kissing this point once more, giving him greater contact this time care of the angle.
“How was that?” I asked, feeling his breath warm my lips.
A shrug. “Not too bad. I didn’t mind it.”
“Did you want to try one more?”
“All right. One more.”
“Will you open a little for me this time?”
His lips opened slightly and he held himself rigid, letting me take the lead. The hesitant expression on his face calmed to curiosity, his eyes gradually closing.
“Thanks.” I brushed my lips over his, taking it easy. “You have such a beautiful mouth, Jimmy, and your lips are so warm, soft.”
He made a noise in his threat. I think it was good.
“I’ve been dying to kiss you.”
Our noses bumped and I smiled, changed the tilt of my chin and went back for more. I opened my lips a little, kissing his top lip over and over. The feel of his breath against my face, his stubble against my skin. I wanted to sink straight into him, know him inside and out. I wanted to protect him and cherish him, encourage him and love him. Ever so slowly he leaned in, getting closer, meeting me half way. When I flicked his bottom lip with the tip of my tongue he sucked in a breath, eyelids fluttering opening.
“Would you rather no tongue?” I asked.
“Tongue’s okay.” His eyes were dazed, pupils dilated.
“Open your mouth a little wider for me?”
He nodded, doing as told. His hand slid up my leg, strong fingers kneading my thigh. This time when I leaned in, he came toward me too. Hell yes, success! Sweet euphoria coursed through my veins. He wanted this. I canted my head and gently covered his mouth with mine, skirting my tongue over the edge of his teeth, exploring. He exhaled and I inhaled.
Timidly, his tongue reached for mine. A quick touch and it was gone again. I continued on, sliding over his teeth, toying with his lips, tempting him to go further. He tasted so damn good I couldn’t say. Then again, his tongue touched mine, rubbing against it, making me moan. The kiss went deeper, harder, as Jimmy got more into it, our tongues tangling, time and again. When he finally broke it off, we both sat their panting, staring at the other.
“What do you think?” I asked.
His gaze stayed glued to my kiss-swollen lips. Cautiously, he touched his mouth. “Wasn’t so bad with you.”
“No?”
“One more.” A hand slid around the back of my neck, drawing me in as his mouth met mine. Our lips, teeth, and tongue fought for dominance, but it was the sweetest of battles. We both won in the end.
Without hesitation, he reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head and tossing it aside. Then his hands cupped my breasts, taking their weight. “I been needing to do this.”
“Have you?” I panted.
“Oh, yeah. Your tits are amazing. Been needing to get my hands on them for a while.” His thumbs stroked over my nipples, toying with them, making them tighten. My breasts felt swollen and heavy, things down low stirring up a whole lot more. It was mildly embarrassing how wet he made me. What a confidence boosting turn on it was, seeing how much he enjoyed my body. Fingers stroked over the curve of my hips and the round of my belly (alas, I liked food far too much for it to ever be flat). In his eyes there was no hesitation, only appreciation. Just having him this close, his hands on me drove every other thought out of my head. Only now mattered.
He pinched my nipples lightly and I gasped.
“Sensitive?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You want me to stop?”
“God, no.”
“You’re so fucking hot,” he hummed. “You have no idea.”
“Didn’t realize you noticed me that way.”
“I couldn’t not notice you. And believe me, I tried. But in Adrian’s office. You were wearing that tight white shirt, glaring at me like you were ready to tear me apart. Nearly fucking killed me not to take a bite out of you.”
“You remember what I was wearing when we first met?”
“Well, yeah. It’s not a big deal.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Or maybe that was just me getting my hopes up.
He laughed, low down and dirty. “And when we go jogging … shit. Never buy a better sports bra. I think I’d cry if I couldn’t watch them bouncing around every morning.”
“They’re not that bad.”
No,” he said. “They’re that good.”