He doesn’t respond for a few moments while he continues staring at me inexpressively. He lifts his hand and runs it across my stomach and around to my waist, then grips me tightly and pulls me against him. “You know,” he says, narrowing his eyes as he meticulously rakes them down my body. He traces the pattern of my dress with a finger, delicately stroking over my stomach. “I can handle what this dress does to me.” He lifts his eyes from my stomach, back up to my mouth. “I can even handle having to constantly stare at your lips, even when I don’t get to kiss them. I can handle the sound of your laughter and how it makes me want to cover your mouth with mine and drink it all in.”
His mouth is closing in on mine, and the way his voice has dropped into some sort of lyrical, god-like octave makes my heart pummel within my chest. He lowers his lips to my cheek and lightly kisses it, his warm breath colliding with my skin when he speaks. “I can even handle the millions of times I’ve replayed our first kiss over and over in my head this past month. The way you felt. The way you sounded. The way you looked up at me right before my lips met yours.”
He rolls himself on top of me and brings my arms above my head, clasping them in his hands. I’m hanging on to every single word he’s saying, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever it is he’s doing right now. He straddles me, holding his weight up with his knees. “But what I can’t handle, Sky? What drives me crazy and makes me want to put my hands and my mouth all over every single inch of you? It’s the fact that you just said The Jerk is your favorite movie ever. Now that?” He drops his mouth to mine until our lips are touching. “That’s incredibly fucking hot and I’m pretty sure we need to make out now.”
His playfulness makes me laugh and I whisper seductively against his lips. “He hates these cans.”
He groans and kisses me, then pulls away. “Do it again. Please. Hearing you talk in movie quotes is so much hotter than kissing you.”
I laugh and give him another quote. “Stay away from the cans!”
He groans playfully in my ear. “That’s my girl. One more. Do one more.”
“That’s all I need,” I say teasingly. “The ashtray, this paddle game, and the remote control, and the lamp…and that’s all I need. I don’t need one other thing, not one.”
He’s laughing loudly now. As many times as Six and I stayed up watching this movie, he’ll be surprised to know there’s a lot more where those came from.
“That’s all you need?” Holder quips. “Are you sure about that, Sky?” His voice is smooth and seductive and if I was standing up right now, my panties would without a doubt be on the floor.
I shake my head and my smile fades. “You,” I whisper. “I need the lamp and the ashtray and the paddle game and the remote control…and you. That’s all I need.”
He laughs, but his laugh quickly fades once his eyes drop to my mouth again. He scrutinizes it, more than likely mapping out just what he’s about to do with it for the next hour. “I need to kiss you now.” His mouth collides with mine and for this moment, he really is all I need.
He’s propped up on his hands and knees, kissing me fiercely, but I need him to drop himself on top of me. My hands are still locked above my head and my mouth is useless to form words when he’s teasing it like he is. The only thing I can do is lift my foot up and kick his knee out from under him, so that’s what I do.
The second his body falls against mine, I gasp. Loudly. I hadn’t taken into consideration that when I lifted my leg, it would also push the hem of my dress up. Way up. Couple that with the hard denim of his jeans and you have a pretty gasp-worthy combination.
“Holy shit, Sky,” he says between breathless moments of completely ravishing my mouth with his. He’s winded already and we haven’t even been at it more than a minute. “God, you feel incredible. Thank you for wearing this dress.” He’s kissing me, sporadically muttering into my mouth. “I really…” He kisses my mouth, then runs his lips down my chin and halfway down my neck. “I really like it. Your dress.” He’s breathing so heavily now, I can barely make out the mumbling coming from him. He scoots slightly further down on the bed until his lips are kissing the base of my throat. I tilt my head back to give him plenty of access, because his lips are more than welcome anywhere on me right now. He releases his grip on my hands so he can lower his mouth closer to my chest. One of his hands drops to my thigh, and he slowly runs it upward, pushing away what’s left of the dress covering my legs. When he reaches the top of my thigh, he stills his hand and squeezes tightly, as if he’s silently demanding his fingers not to venture any further.
I twist my body beneath his, hoping he’ll get the hint that I’m attempting to direct his hand to keep going wherever it wants to go. I don’t want him to second-guess himself or think for a second that I’m hesitant to go any further. I just want him to do whatever it is he wants to do, because I need him to. I need him to conquer as many firsts as he can tonight, because I’m suddenly feeling greedy and I want us to pass them all.
He takes my physical cues and inches his hand closer to my inner thigh. The anticipation of him touching me alone is enough to cause every muscle from the waist down to clench. His lips have finally made their way past the base of my throat and down to the rise in my chest. I feel like the next step is for him to remove the dress completely so he can get to what’s underneath it, but that would require his other hand, and I really like it where it is. I’d like it a little more if it were a few inches further, but I absolutely don’t want it further away.
I bring my hands to his face and force him to kiss me harder, then drop my hands to his back.
He’s still wearing a shirt.
This isn’t good.