Page 61 of Maybe You

His lips barely touch mine, careful and gentle and not at all what I expected. I have room to back out if I want to. I don’t. But it’s there. And it makes me feel safe.

Our bodies are only connected by our lips and our thighs and his fingers under my jaw. Nothing more.

His lips brush mine, still impossibly soft and gentle and skillful. The inside of my chest gets warm, and the feeling starts to spread the longer he kisses me. It moves through my arms to the tips of my fingers. Up my neck. Swoops through my belly.

My dick is pressed against the front of my pants, and my toes curl into the soft rug in front of the couch.

His lips leave mine, and I let out a sound of protest. When I open my eyes, I find him looking at me. He holds my gaze as he very slowly and deliberately moves closer. And then he’s really straddling me. I suck in a breath at the pressure against my cock once his hips are flush against mine.

He smirks briefly before he leans down and catches my mouth with his again. His arms are on top of the backrest, caging me in, and I wrap mine around him. A rumble of approval echoes inside his chest, so I tighten my hold on him.

His tongue sweeps out and brushes over my lips. I open for him, and his tongue slides over mine. Something jolts inside my chest, and I make some kind of desperate noise while my fingertips dig into his hips.

He tastes sharp. Like peppermint and scotch. He licks and teases and kisses until I can’t think at all. Until his kiss is all I know.

And he makes no move to take things any further.

We just kiss.

My chest is rising and falling rapidly by the time he pulls his mouth away from mine. And then he’s kissing my cheek and then my neck.

It feels like my skin tingles everywhere his lips touch me. Shivers race up and down my spine when his tongue swipes over the sensitive skin just beneath my ear.

I move my hands up under his shirt. His skin is impossibly soft and hot to the touch, and he lets out a happy sigh when my palms slide over his sides. So I do it again. This time I draw a satisfied hum out of him.

I want more.

I arch upward and plaster myself against his body as I search out his mouth again. This kiss is more urgent. His hands go to the back of my neck and then down my arms. His tongue dives into my mouth again.

His fingers find the hem of my shirt and tug it upward, and I start to lift my arms.

And then I freeze.

He catches on immediately and lifts his head. His eyes search mine.

I try to swallow down the hesitation and get over myself, but it’s easier said than done.

“Maybe…” I say hoarsely. “Maybe I should leave it on.”

He blinks, and I can see the haze of pleasure retreating a few steps.

“Your shirt?” he asks.

I can’t make myself meet his gaze for this.

“It’s not pretty.” I let out a short, forced laugh.. “And not exactly arousing.”

I don’t know what he’s thinking. He’s not saying anything. He just keeps looking at me.

Before he gets up and off from me.

I close my eyes for a second and push out a slow breath.

Crap.

Well, I just ruined the mood. Or maybe Sutton changed his mind after all, and if he did, I’m going to accept that with composure because?—

“Hey.”

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