Page 60 of Ice Me Out
This time, she doesn’t let me ask twice.
“What?” it’s her turn to ask when she spots the smile on my face.
“Nothing, you have some whipped cream just there.” I point at my own top lip.
“Oh.” She gasps, grabbing a paper tissue from the dispenser on the table.
My fingers shoot out, grabbing her wrist before she can wipe the cream off her lips. “Let me.” I say, taking the tissue off of her.
“What are you doing?” she gasps, her shoulders suddenly rigid, as I lean forward.
“That whipped cream is too good to let it go to waste,” I inform her. “May I?” I lean even closer, indicating clearly my intention to lick the cream off her lips.
She offers me a small nod, and I don’t hesitate.
Fuck. Her lips are as soft as I’ve been imagining from the moment we met. I take her top lip between mine, licking once, twice, three times.
At this point, the whipped cream is totally gone, but I want more. “Bex,” I murmur. “I’m gonna kiss you. Is it ok?”
Her eyes widen, as if that surprised her. But she nods.
I have no hesitation. I trap her chin between my fingers and cover her lips with mine.
Hmm, they feel so fucking good. I apply more pressure and she parts for me, just like I was hoping she would.
My tongue strokes hers as I massage her lips with mine and she begins kissing me back.
Holy fuck.
It’s like our mouths were made to do this. This kiss is so perfect that I feel it with my whole body.
Bex is the perfect mix between sweet and daring, exploring my mouth just as I do with hers.
She might be my fake girlfriend, but my physical reaction to kissing her is one hundred percent real. So real, in fact, that I forget where we are.
I reluctantly break the kiss, but don’t take my eyes off of Bex. Her lips are red and a little swollen, and I wish we were somewhere a little more private. Maybe it’s for the best, though. I really want Bex to feel safe with me, comfortable. So I need to pump on the brakes.
Another reason why I interrupt our kiss is that I realize that the noisy cafe, full of animated chatter, has descended into silence.
Everyone has stopped eating, drinking, and talking. All eyes are on us.
Bex
When Jamie kisses me, I can think of only two things.
The first one is holy shit.
This guy is an amazing kisser.
It starts sweet and tentative as he laps up the whipped cream on my upper lip.
When he pulls back and looks at me, his eyes are an intense royal blue. I’ve always considered blue eyes to be cold. But Jamie’s are deep pools of scorching heat as he whispers that now I’m all clean.
The second thought that comes to my mind is that Jamie isn’t the man behind mask number six.
That should make me feel disappointed, but it doesn’t. While I’m still dying to know who kissed me last night at the Zeta party, Jamie’s kiss is just as hot and exciting as the one my mystery man gave me.
It’s just different.
