Page 71 of Reckless Hearts
Seb’s touch is what causes me to lose control. I surge forward to claim his mouth.
Our kiss is like inhaling lightning.
I’ve been with some of the hottest men in Hollywood. I’ve kissed countless guys since I last kissed Seb. More than I can remember.
But nothing compares to this.
After seven years, I still remember exactly how Seb kisses.
It’s like our first kiss all those years ago, the one that ignited everything between us.
And it appears the fire is still burning.
We stumble back until he’s pressed against the tree and I’m devouring his mouth, my tongue sliding against his in a desperate dance.
It’s rediscovery and revelation. The taste of him—rain and champagne and something uniquely Seb—floods my senses.
Tears prickle my eyes because kissing him is so good that it hurts. Like I’m breaking apart and being put back together all at once.
I now have an even greater appreciation of how lucky I am to kiss Seb.
Because I know what it’s like to be without him.
17
Seb
Holy shit. I’m kissing Marcus. I’m kissingMarcus.
For a second, I feel like my naïve eighteen-year-old self again, the sense of absolute incredulousness that of all the guys Marcus could have, he’s choosing to kiss me.
And Marcus is no longer just my sister’s gorgeous, charming best friend. He’s now a Hollywood movie star.
But what sweeps my incredulousness away is howfamiliarthis is.
The feel of his lips, the way he tilts his head, the taste of him—it’s déjà vu.
Marcus has changed a lot over the last seven years, but the way he kisses hasn’t changed at all.
We kiss like we’re trying to fuse our bodies to occupy the same spacetime coordinates. The wet fabric has turned our clothes into second skins as our bodies press against each other, the slickness only heightening every point of contact. I run my hands over the damp fabric of Marcus’s shirt, feeling the firm muscles underneath.
He groans in our kiss, grinding his groin against mine, and I gasp at the electric sensation of our bodies aligning.
“My place?” I rasp, and he laughs, but his eyes are dark and intense.
“Your place,” he agrees.
I’ve never run through a tropical rainstorm with a hard-on before.
Luckily, the storm has scattered the guests, so there isn’t anyone to witness our mad dash across the resort, looking like two drowned rats in heat.
Saskia will be disappointed her planned fireworks show has been thwarted.
But luckily for me, I’ve now got a personal fireworks show planned for myself.
I fumble with the key card, my hands shaking from adrenaline and anticipation. Marcus crowds close behind me, his breath hot on my neck.
I have to resist the urge to forget the door entirely and have my wicked way with him on the porch of the villa. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea given my parents are occupying the villa next door.
