“It’s beautiful.”
I drop his shirt and we stand there, staring at each other. He takes a step forward and my legs follow his lead, closing the space between us. He stares at my mouth again, his eyes darkening, seemingly fascinated by my lips. I’m dying to test his theory and give him a taste of what my mouth feels like because I want to know what his tastes like.
I raise to my tiptoes. His eyes widen, darker and hungrier than before, but my Cole, the boy I’ve come to know, doesn’t make a move. I press my lips to his, then let my tongue taste his bottom lip. I’ve imagined doing this a million times. Kissing him. Tasting him. But I’ve never done something like this until this moment. Never initiated a kiss. Something about Cole makes me want to beat down my fear and try things I’ve never done before.
He doesn’t disappoint. His mouth parts on a breath, and his tongue meets mine in a quick caress before retreating back. I drop to the soles of my feet and tilt my head up. God, he is tall.
Does he want to grab me, kiss me again? Or push me away? I can’t read him. All I know is that his eyes are like thunder and lightning on a dark velvet night. A part of me is terrified and the other is excited because I know that when he finally really kisses me, I won’t want to emerge from the storm he will create.
Finally, he slides one hand around my waist and pulls me close. He rests his forehead against mine before lowering his head to the crook of my neck. His other arm comes around my back, pulling me close. He hugs me tight, then his hold loosens, and just when I think he’s about to let me go, his arms tighten again, firmer than before. Like he’s not ready to let me go. Like he wants our bodies to meld into each other. God, I want that too.
He lifts his head and brushes his thumb along my bottom lip. A groan rumbles in his chest and that is the only warning I get as his lips crush into mine, swallowing my squeal of surprise.
“Fuck, Snowflake. If I had known kissing you would be this intoxicating, I would have claimed this perfect mouth sooner. But I was a coward. I need to kiss you,” he says, pulling back slightly. The words are a little unclear, affected by the same hurricane that’s destroying my thoughts inside me. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you glare at me from your front lawn. You’ve crawled under my skin so deep, I have to kiss you to seal you in. Never leave.”
Did he just call me Snowflake?
Holy crap. “Were you afraid of kissing me?”
He blinks. His hands loosen their hold. He seems hesitant to say anything, but I see the moment he decides to let me in.
He nods. “I wasn’t ready for you. I wasn’t ready to get myself tangled up with you. Girls break you. I’ve been broken before. I planned to stay away from you, but fuck. Nor. I keep coming back to that roof every night. Every fucking night. And now you’re here, in my space. What have you done to me?”
My knees buckle and my hands shoot out to grab his arms for support. Before my body hits the floor, he grips my upper arms hoisting me up and his hips press forward, supporting my weight at the same time that my back connects with a hard surface. Then he slides his hands under my knees, hooking my legs around his waist, locking me in completely. My heart’s thumping hard against his chest. I wish I had more than two sets of hands so I could touch him all over at once like I’ve imagined doing. I settle for sinking my fingers into his thick hair and pulling him down toward my mouth, but I don’t need to. He’s already leaning down to me.
When his trembling fingers connect with my body, the hesitation I’d felt when he first joined me on my roof is gone. His hands are all over me, brutal and greedy. One hand slides up my neck and lifts my hair over to one shoulder. His fingers splay on my throat, soaking up the vibrations from my groans.
“Is this okay?” he asks. “I want to feel the sounds you make on my skin.”
I nod in understanding. I have no idea what I’m doing, so I let him guide me because I know he won’t hurt me. I trust him, even though that’s an emotion reserved for very special people.
Just before his mouth crashes down on mine, he groans, a sound that’s a cross between torment and desire. I moan and the last thing I see are his stormy eyes as they darken further. Then he’s kissing me, driving me wild with kisses that taste like mint, hope and storm. Gravity can’t hold me down, I’m so high I’m touching the sky without my feet leaving the ground. His mouth moves, shaping into mine, his hands desperate and needy. Demanding and unrelenting. I’m like clay in his hands and I don’t care. He can shape me into whatever he wants. Whatever he needs me to be as long as he doesn’t stop making me feel like I’m kissing heaven. It’s overwhelming.
Pure torture.
Exquisite.
Perfection.
It’s everything that is Cole Holloway, a quiet yet powerful storm, which could wreck me.
Break me.
Mend me.