Page 99 of Love Sick

“No.” His nose slides along the length of mine, and my eyes flutter closed. “I should have told you a long time ago. You’re a prison I don’t want to escape. You’re like drowning in paradise.”

Whoa. Really?

He’s so close, the graze of his lips as he speaks sends shivers across my skin, diffusing liquid heat beneath.

I stand at the edge of the unknown, and my voice grows breathy. “That sounds…painful.”

Voice deep, almost slurred, he says, “Nothing hurts when I’m with you.”

Does he really think that? After all these months of vague flirtation, he finally revealstheseare the thoughts that prowl in his mind?

These aren’t the words of a man who thinks I might be fun to bang. These are the words of a man who cares, who wantsme, not just my body.

His hands tangle in the back of my shirt, clenching the fabric. “Grace—”

The faint brush of his lips near mine rouses the heat simmering for him into a full boil. Patience snaps, and I graze my mouth over his, soft and warm and waiting. His body tenses against mine before one hot gifted hand cups my jaw, thumb beneath my chin, and he kisses me.

A flood of pleasure breaks through all thoughts of restraint, and I tighten my hold on his neck, rising to my tiptoes to get closer.

Magic sparks between us, and streams of twinkling stars illuminate my insides. His tongue touches mine, teasing, and I’m lost. I cling to him so tight that my toes barely touch the floor. Sliding into my hair, that hand of his massages the tiny muscles of my neck, eliciting a weird humming from my chest.

A dark chuckle answers, and he deepens the kiss, bringing us so close together that the clothes between us are an unbearable nuisance.

“God, Grace.” His lips slide over my cheek, teeth catching my ear. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He sucks on my neck, a sensation that spirals between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together and squirm against him.

His lips find mine once more, urgent, faster. His hand drops to my ass, squeezing us together, and the hardness of him presses into my lower belly, impossible to ignore.

OMG.

He wants me.

This charming, intelligent, kind manwantsme.

I could tell him to take me to the bedroom, and he’d do it. He’d lay me down, and if this kiss is any indication, he’d probably give me the best sex of my life.

And I’d probably be the worst of his.

It’s like fucking an ice queen.

My fingers spasm at the memory, and I pull my lips from his, pressing slower, soothing kisses over his jaw, letting my mouth sink against his throat. A deep hum rumbles there, but he takes the hint and loosens his grip on me. I slide until my feet are flat on the floor and I’m staring into impossibly dark eyes, a flushed face, a hungry expression.

I rest my palms on his chest, separating our bodies by a crucial few inches. “This probably isn’t a good idea.”

He makes a face like he disagrees, all pinched eyebrows and twisted mouth.

“I’m—” I drop my gaze to his chest. “We aren’t—”

“What? We aren’t what?” His voice is rough and dark.

“I’mnot—” I rub my nose, ignoring my body’s insistence that I want him, that it doesn’t matter if I’m bad at it because he won’t care. He’ll use those talented hands to teach me about pleasure I’ve only read about.

But what if hedoescare?

That familiar anxiety thrusts a hand in my chest and twists, tightening all my nerves to maximum tension.

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