"No."
"No?" she nearly screeches, and I have to bite onto the corner of my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Who knew kissing could be so much fun? I have a feeling Kayla might make everything more fun.
"You're in charge, Buttercup. Remember? You're seducing me."
"I'd rather bang you over the top of your head," she mutters, leaning into me again. Her tongue comes out to moisten her lips. I'm hypnotized by the way it moves. Her lips are pale pink, glossy, and inviting against the deeper ruby red of her tongue. I have the strangest urge to capture that tongue in my teeth and refuse to let her leave.
I don't get a chance because her lips are gliding over mine, leaving a heated taste of brandy and pineapple in its wake from her drink. Her tongue pushes against my lips, and it takes all the strength I have not to open for her. Her tongue tries to gain entry again. Her fingers tangle into the t-shirt I'm wearing. She breaks away just a bit, her dark eyes huge on mine.
"Open for me," she complains, her voice soft.
"Make me," I dare her, nearing the end of my chain. Any minute and I'm going to break free, unable to control the needs in my body. Kayla lets out a whimper filled with frustration and I vow to myself to make her give me that noise again and again as I torture her body sexually. She has no idea the animal inside of me that she tempts. Shit! Until a few days ago, I didn't even know it exists.
Her fingers claw into the fine hair on my chest and there's a painful tug even through my shirt. I'm about to break and take complete control when Kayla surprises me. The little witch bites my lip. It's not a gentle bite either. It's hard. I open and her tongue dives inside. Brandy and fruit explode on my tongue along with a taste of cherries in the spring that can only be Kayla. It all combines and then mixes with a coppery taste to confirm that she did nick my lip. Somehow the thought of driving Kayla to that point makes me throb even harder than I thought possible.
My hand goes up to her neck, wrapping along the delicate curve. Now it's me pulling her closer. I let my thumb rest against her pulse point and groan as her tongue wars and fights with mine, our kiss deepening. Kayla groans and I swallow it as my other hand slides under the fabric of her shirt, brushing against the soft, heated skin of her stomach. Her body trembles and that makes me feel stronger than I ever have before. My hand continues exploring her stomach, and I don’t stop until my thumb brushes against the underside of her breast, teasingly swiping back and forth. Even that's not enough. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I have a feeling that nothing will ever be enough where Kayla is concerned.
I forget that we are in a crowded room. I think I’ve even forgotten my own name. I forget everything but me, Kayla, and the feel of her in my arms. I push my fingers up under her bra, wanting to hold her breast, needing it like my next breath. I’m thinking of nothing, but how it will feel touching her without clothes in the way.
My thumb swipes across her nipple. It's plump and hard with need. Her body shivers in reaction and she gasps, pulling away from me. Her eyes open slowly and I watch every agonizing second until those deep brown beauties look up at me. Desire and need are shining in them like a fucking beacon.
"White," she whispers, her voice hoarse, raspy in a way I've never heard it before. I instantly know I will need to hear her that way over and over.
"That was a hell of a kiss, honey," I tell her and I don't recognize my own voice.
"White," she whispers again, bringing her eyes down, and I use the hold on her neck to bring them back up to me. I want to see them. Shit. I need to.
"What is it?"
"You're holding my breast," she whispers, her face pink.
It's then that I realize my hand is under her bra, kneading her breast and still playing with her nipple.
"It feels fucking good."
"Anyone could see," she whispers, trying to look around, but I keep my hold solid, not letting her move.
"They can't. They might wonder, but they can't see, and I find I don't really want to take my hand away."
"That might be a little difficult since I need to go to the restroom."
"Spoilsport."
"White," she says sternly, but I hear the smile in her voice.
"Answer me one question."
"What's that?"
"Are you horny?"
"Good Lord. You're so debonair and smooth."
"It's a gift. But you didn't answer. Are you?"
"Yes, though now I'm trying to figure out why."
"Good," I tell her, bending down to give her a quick kiss. Regretfully, I pull my hand away, fixing her bra with a final pinch of her nipple, just to hear the gasp leave her lips again.
"White!"
"I think our experiment is complete for tonight, Buttercup."
"Our experiment? Complete?" she asks, thoroughly confused. She stands up slowly and it gives me a thrill of accomplishment that she seems just the slightest bit unsteady on her feet.