Page 36 of Midnight Enemy

I give him a Spiderman kiss, upside down. He doesn’t move, just accepts the kiss, but he also doesn’t remove his hand from my neck, and I feel him brush his thumb across my throat.

I shiver, my nipples tightening, my lips parting as I inhale, and then I jump as I feel his tongue touch my bottom lip. He stops and waits, and I take a few seconds to debate whether I should push him away and get up. I ought to. I should.

But I don’t. It’s too wicked, too delicious. His cologne winds around me, and I know that his secret is his passion, kept locked away inside him like a feral big cat. When I lower my lips back to his, he gives an approving growl deep in his throat, like a purr, and it makes firecrackers go off inside me, tiny little fizzes and bangs and sprays of color in my head and my heart and my stomach.

He slides his hand into my hair, opening his mouth, and I gasp as he probes with his tongue, stroking it against mine. Mmm that’s so erotic, and my body stirs like an animal coming out of hibernation.

I continue to brush my hands over his face, stroking his cheeks, his jaw, his throat, and across his shoulders. He sighs as he kisses me, and I feel his shoulders release some of the tension they were holding. I rub his right shoulder, where I know he’s sore, massaging it lightly and willing the healing power of the Kahukura to penetrate his muscles and tendons and ligaments and bones.

At the same time, he runs his fingers over the nape of my neck and through my hair, and I give a little moan, tingling all over. In response,he tightens his fingers, clenching my hair, opens his mouth wider, and deepens the kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth until I’m gasping for breath. I’m shocked at the intensity of it, how I feel invaded and ravaged, and he’s hardly touching me really.

When I moan again, he shifts suddenly, turning and lifting an arm around my shoulders. Before I can understand what he’s doing, he pulls me across him, lifting me as easily as if I’m a pillow, and adjusting our position until I’m lying fully on top of him, stretched out.

“Oh!” I’m stunned at how easily he manhandled me. But there’s no time to react, because he cups my head and brings it down so he can crush his lips to mine.

Oh my God, I thought the previous kiss was deep, but this is intense, lighting fires inside me, and I’m powerless to fight against it. I know that if I yelled stop, or pushed up, or wrenched my head away, he’d stop immediately. I don’t know how; I just know. I trust him. But I don’t want him to stop. I’m burning, and he’s driving me crazy, and if he stops I honestly think that, like a rose deprived of sunshine and water, I’ll just curl up and wither and die.

So I kiss him back, and he’s hard through his jeans against my stomach, and my heart bangs against my ribs so fast I feel dizzy, and I don’t know where this is going, but I want it to go on forever, until the stars come out to watch us, and the moon rises in the night sky.

Chapter Eight

Orson

My head is spinning.

I couldn’t believe it when Scarlett kissed me. And I can’t believe that now she’s lying on top of me, still kissing me, and not fighting me off with a stick.

Jesus… she’s so incredibly soft all over. She doesn’t possess a single angle. Her breasts are two small pillows squashed to my chest, my erection is pressed into her soft stomach, and when I run my hand down her back to her bottom, my fingers automatically clench the plump muscles there.

Something hits me then, and I run my fingers up her sides, feeling for any elastic at her hips or in the middle of her back. I don’t find any.

She lifts her head and gives me a mischievous look.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” I say flatly.

She shrugs. “It was a warm day.”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Orson!”

“I’m so fucking turned on right now.”

She laughs, her expression lighting up at the thought that I desire her. I lift both hands to her face and hold her as I kiss her. She responds with such enthusiasm that it only serves to fire me up even more.

My senses feel heightened, turned up to eleven by the wind and rain, the sensation of the wet clothes against my skin, and the way her hands moved across my face, neck, and shoulders, stroking and massaging. I know I’m probably imagining it, but the ache in my right shoulder and even in my head has vanished. But then that’s probably because all the blood in my body has flown south for the winter. Her hands on my face warmed as she held them there, and it’s impossiblenot to believe she was somehow drawing on healing power, even if it was only internal.

Fuuuuck… I have no idea why, but this girl drives me crazy… Her sundress—scarlet with white swirls—is short, loose, and flowing and looks like something that might have been worn at Woodstock. Her bare legs are smooth and brown. She was wearing red lip gloss when she first walked up, and when she kissed me, her lips stuck to mine, then peeled away in such an erotic manner that I nearly came on the spot.

She’s shifted up my body a bit, and I don’t know if she realizes she’s doing it or if it’s unconscious, but she’s moving her hips slowly, arousing herself on my erection. The head of it nestles in her softness and slides up to the top as she moves, and she gives a little groan and circles her hips, presumably feeling it pressing against her clit. Ahhh… that’s incredibly erotic. I slide my hands down her back to her bottom and pull her toward me, moving with her to encourage her.

“Ohhh,” she says softly, just an exhalation really, her breath whispering across my lips, and her teeth tug on her bottom lip as her eyes close, so I know she’s feeling the ripples of pleasure like shockwaves through her body.

“Mmm,” I murmur, kissing her jaw, her neck, her throat. “Slowly…”

I stroke up her body to her breasts and fill my palms with them. They’re probably a C cup, generous but still high, and they fit my hands perfectly. It’s not cold exactly, but the rain is cool, and her nipples have tightened where her wet dress is clinging to them. They’re like buttons on her dress, and when I tease them with my thumbs, she moans softly against my lips.

This is like heaven, the rain falling around us like a curtain on a four-poster bed, shutting out the world. I’d worry that someone might be watching, but there isn’t going to be anyone else out here in this weather, and anyway we’re surrounded by ferns and palms that shelter us from prying eyes.

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