I can hear the challenge in his voice. He doesn’t think I’ll do it. And under normal circumstances, he’s probably right. My heart hasn’t stopped slamming against my ribcage, and I’m afraid it might actually burst onto the floor between us.
“Okay, why?” I toss back. No use pretending anymore that I’m ignorant to the almost-kiss. But I’m curious.
He shrugs. “Why not? We’re just friends, right? So what does it matter?” The words are casual, like he’s talking about the weather.
I find my attention drifting south again. This time I don’t stop it immediately. He’s wearing dark green boxers. I can see a narrow gap between his thigh and the leg of the boxers, and my core tightens at the thought of what lies in the darkness in there.
Just friends. But I’m so not having friendly thoughts about Cole right now. It’s like I’ve slipped into an alternate universe, one where I’ve taken off my blinders and can see that my best friend is actually hotter than most GQ models.
And he’s a military man, with all the confidence and swagger of someone who’s led men in battle.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” I find myself responding. I can do this. Whatever. It’s one kiss, right?
I keep telling myself that as I shift to my knees and move in front of him. There’s something crackling between us, a tension that thickens the closer I get. Still, I ignore it as best as I can and repeat to myself that it’s not a big deal. Just a kiss between friends. It’s like kissing a brother or a cousin, really.
I’ve known Cole for far too long to be feeling this odd attraction. It’ll probably be a shitty kiss, and we’ll both laugh about it as the tension dissolves. Then we can go back to normal, and when we’re eighty years old, we’ll both cackle on our rocking chairs as we remember that one spring night where I dared him to take his pants off and we kissed.
No biggie.
His eyes darken as I approach, and the fluttering that settles into my lower belly is definitely not friendly. No, that’s sexual anticipation, and the tightness of my skin won’t let me deny that.
Our lips are mere inches apart, and then suddenly they’re touching. Cole doesn’t move a muscle at first, lets me dictate the action, but I can feel him coiled. His mouth opens and I find mine opening in response, and then his tongue slides along my upper lip.
The electric zing from that simple touch sends bolts straight to my nipples and clit. I gasp in a breath, and Cole takes the opportunity to slant his mouth over mine.
His hand darts out to slam my body against him. The heat of his skin scorches me through our shirts, and my nipples are tight buds, my breasts swollen, my pussy pounding. The light scent of his cologne is weaving around me, creating a spell.
I’m intoxicated by this kiss.
And Cole…holy shit, can he kiss. He drinks from my mouth like he’s owning me, and I cling to his shoulders, though my hands want to roam everywhere. Our bodies are locked tight, our breaths panting into each other’s mouths. He tastes of beer and his tongue touches mine, and every time he strokes inside my mouth, I have this urge to straddle his powerful thighs and grind against him.
I don’t know how long we kiss. I stop caring, just lose myself in his taste, the feel of his firm fingers gripping my waist, keeping me in place. Cole groans and his other hand reaches up to cup the back of my head. I wrap my arms around his neck.
I need to be closer.
Every cell in my body pounds with intense need unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s overwhelming, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. The way his hot hands press my mouth against his, the brick wall of his chest, how I slide my aching body along his— Shit, what am I doing? A flash of guilt-tinged reason slams into my brain and I pull back from the kiss, gasping, trying to think.
For a moment, Cole doesn’t do anything but stare at me. His mouth is slightly swollen, and I swear to God, it takes every ounce of will I have to move back to my side of the blanket, despite my confusion and discomfort and more than a healthy dollop of embarrassment.
“Truth or dare?” I make myself say. There’s almost no tremble in my voice. Why, you’d think I didn’t just have my world turned upside down or anything. You’d think my body isn’t aching with intense sexual need. I’m actually wet, pulsing in my panties.
Cole’s mouth curls in the corners, like he can see right through my ruse, how I’m faking this casual attitude, and his cocky smile tugs at something in my chest. I slug him in the shoulder, which actually sends a jab of pain into my fist—yowch, he really is muscly.
He barks out a laugh. “Hurt yourself, kitten? Be careful how you throw those punches around.”
I roll my eyes, grateful for the way the ice seems to have broken that weird sexual vibe that was crackling between us. I need a moment to regroup, to figure out what the hell just happened, where to go from here. After all, this is Cole, not some guy I met online or at a bar.
He’s my best friend.