Page 56 of Tourist Trap

“Oh, come on, Claire, don’t deny it. You’re a helpless flirt.”

She tips her head to the side, and a smile spreads over her lips as she takes a step closer to me. “Who do I flirt with, Miles?” she asks, and I stand there, rolling my eyes as I try and think of who to name and quickly realize…

No one.

“Well…”

Claire might beflirtywith lots of people, but that’s because it’s her personality, but she doesn’t outright flirt with everyone. I would know: it would drive me insane, having to watch it.

But she sure as shit flirts with me.

“Are you trying to say you only flirt with me?” I ask hesitantly.

She rolls her lips into her mouth and gives me a shy smile.

“If I say yes, what are you going to do about it?” she asks, and the challenge in her words, the smile on her lips, the way she stands there in her sweatshirt, and her full lips…

Without thinking, I reach out, grabbing her around her waist and tugging her against me. Her eyes go wide, and her mouth parts just a bit, making her look even more beautiful, something I didn’t even know was possible, yet here we are.

I hesitate, terrified to cross this line, but then I press my lips to hers. At the touch, my hand tightens on her waist on instinct before I deepen the kiss, needing to savor every moment of it.

It’s an idiotic move.

Maybe the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

I probably could have survived this entire summer with her. With her teasing and her toying and her flirting.

But knowing what she tastes like when I kiss her? The way she gasps when my tongue slides into her mouth and the way her hands shift, folding around my neck like she wants to get closer?

I don’t know how I’m ever going to continue to keep my distance knowing all of this.

We kiss like this, my tongue sliding along hers, her fingers digging into the skin at my neck, my hands desperately trying not to dig into the flesh of her hips, and I realize I’m totally screwed.

Kissing Claire is so much better than I thought it would ever be, like a part of me is snapping into place, a sense of calm taking over, battling with the consuming need that flares in my chest.

A tiny mewl leaves her, pulling a groan from my chest and fraying the last thread of control I have.

I want to get her home.

I want to get her naked.

I want to be inside her.

“This is a bad idea,” I say, my lips moving down her jaw and to the soft skin of her neck. I can feel her smile as her hands move under my shirt, caressing across my back.

“Is it?”

“Possibly the worst one,” I say, nipping her ear before sucking at the skin beneath it. She lets out a breathy laugh.

“Then maybe you should stop,” she whispers, the words breathy and going straight to my dick,

“In a minute,” I say.

“God, you’re so gone for me.”

“No, I’m not.” I lie, my lips moving back to hers and tasting her again, our tongues twining.

Her nails bite into my back, andit’s hot and untamed and strangely familiar somehow, like this was always where we were supposed to end up.

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