His hands slid to my lower back. “When I said you looked great? I wasn’t being completely honest.”
That was not what I expected. I turned my head the slightest and then bit back a gasp. Our mouths were centimeters apart and I thought about Brit’s certainty that he would kiss me tonight. I forced my tongue to work. “You don’t think I look great?”
“No,” he said, his expression serious as one hand followed the line of my spine, resting below the edges of my hair. He lowered his head so that his temple pressed against mine. “You look beautiful tonight.”
My breath caught. “Thank you.”
He didn’t say anything as he shifted his head. His lips brushed the curve of my cheek, and I stiffened in his arms. My heart was thundering out of excitement and a different kind of emotion. Fear? Was that what I tasted in the back of my throat? It had come out of nowhere, raw and powerful. The mixture of the two, the need to stay where I was and to pull away was consuming.
Cam’s lips swept over the hollow of my cheek and then his nose brushed mine. His breath was warm against my lips and smelled of sweet chocolate. Would it taste that way? The curiosity rose and I reached up, putting my hands on his biceps.
“Avery?”
My eyes drifted shut. “What?”
“You’ve never been kissed before, right?”
My pulse exploded. “No.”
“Just so we’re clear,” he said. “This isn’t a kiss.”
I opened my mouth and then his lips were on mine. A sweet sweeping of his lips across mine, breathtakingly tender and soft, and way too quick.
“You kissed me,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his sweater.
“That wasn’t a kiss,” his lips brushed mine as he spoke. Shivers raced up and down my spine. “Remember? If we’ve kissed, then that means you going home with me could potentially mean something more serious.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“This is also not a kiss.”
The press of his lips the second time consumed me, awakened me. His mouth was all I could think about, all I wanted to think about. A wonderful warmth slipped down my neck, spreading across my chest, and then lower, between my thighs. He kissed me gently, tracing the pattern of my lips with his own. Something deep inside me was rising, opening, and aching. I clung to him as he shifted and I was suddenly on my back.
Cam hovered over me, the powerful muscles of his arms flexing under my hands. His mouth was still on mine. No other part of our bodies touched and I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or disappointed by that. But his lips… oh, God, his lips moved against mine. I started to kiss him back, slower and clumsy where his had been sure, practiced. I was worried I was doing it wrong, but then a deep sound came from him, almost a growl and instinctively I knew it was a sound of approval. A shudder rocked its way down my body. The ache was spreading, intensifying and it was terrifying in its own way.
His kiss deepened, coaxing my lips to open to his. My senses spun as his tongue slipped in, licking over mine. I gasped at the sensation, and his tongue delved deeply. I fell into the kiss, my fingers clenching and my neck arching. He tasted of chocolate and man and I was coming out my skin as lust stirred in the pit of my stomach, followed by a burst of fluttery panic. That was smoothed away as his tongue flicked along the roof of my mouth. When he lifted his head again, he caught my lower lip between his teeth and a pleased whimper escaped me. Both of us were breathing heavy.
“Still not a kiss?” I asked.
Cam sat back, pulling me up into a sitting position. His eyes were that intense blue, hot and searing. I felt flushed all over. My chest rose and fell rapidly. My hands were still attached to his arms. He reached up, tracing the line of my lower lip and then he leaned in again.
“No, that wasn’t a kiss.” His lips brushed mine in the most tantalizing, promising way. “That was a goodnight.”
Chapter 17
Long after Cam had left, I lay awake in bed. This sleepless night was different than all others. Blew them right out of the water. My body felt foreign to me, achy and way too hot. I pushed the comforter off me already and the thin sheet still abraded my skin. I rolled onto my side, biting down on my lips as my thighs squeezed together.
I hated Cam.
Not really.
But I hated him for his ‘goodnight,’ and for him leaving, and for me being strung so tight that every time I shifted, my ultra-sensitive skin demanded more.
More.
I didn’t hate Cam.