Page 96 of Word to the Wise

“Kissing you.” Her lips press to mine, and she’s so fucking sweet.

Like limes and berries. Her tongue slips into my mouth as I pick her up to sit her on the counter.

The last thing I need is to walk around with my dick hard all fucking night, but the second she moans into my mouth and grinds against me, there’s no holding back. I’m rock hard and aching.

Reed’s fingers trail over my shoulders and down my chest. And I’m lost in this kiss. In how perfect she feels against me.

The kind of goodness I don’t deserve, but I’m selfish, so I take it anyway.

“Can’t they leave already?” Reed frowns when I break the kiss. “I need you to fuck me.”

She rolls her hips, and I can’t contain the growl ripping free from my chest.

“Soon,” I say, hoping I’m right. “Come to think of it, I don’t need friends. I can kick them out right now.”

She giggles, falling against my chest and hugging me.

Has she ever just hugged me?

Yes, but that was always when she was seeking comfort. Or it was when we were having sex. But she’s never just hugged me because she’s giddy and wants to.

My arms circle her, and the bathroom is silent. Laughing from the living room filters through the thin walls, butI barely notice. I focus on her arms wrapped around me, and I hug her back until she inevitably pulls away.

“We should get back out there before they think anything.” She frowns.

“Probably.”

It takes everything in me to step back and help her off the counter.

I’m a fucking gentleman, even when I wish I wasn’t.

I make my way out of the bathroom first, and Reed waits a few minutes to follow. But when she comes back into the kitchen, she doesn’t go back into the living room with the girls. She stays at my side instead.

My eyes connect with hers, and she lights a fire in my chest. A flame so big it eats up every part of me.

My skin is burning with her attention.

Or is it just burning?

Because something itches all of a sudden.

“Are you okay?” Reed takes my hand, her eyes widening. “You look a little red and puffy.”

“I think so.” I try to clear my throat. “But I’m a little itchy.”

I scratch my neck.

“You’re getting spots.” Reed drags her fingers down my neck. “Are you having an allergic reaction?"

"Shit." I glance at the counter—at the collection of alcohol bottles and mixers. “What are you drinking?”

Her eyebrows pinch. “A strawberry lime martini.”

“With real strawberry?” I glance at the drink and realize there’s a sliver of strawberry that was hiding under the lime ribbons.

“Yeah.” She nods, her jaw going slack. “Are you allergic to strawberries?”

My throat burns like hell as I nod.

---