Page 38 of Into These Eyes
She squints against the dim light cast by the overhead lamp as I offer her my hand. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, she sighs heavily. “Now I can’t remember.”
Good. I already know why she hated me. But after her father’s confession, I’d hoped she’d changed her mind.
Taking my hand, she clumsily extracts herself from the car, trips on the kerb and falls hard against me. I hold her tight and shut the door. A few steps into our journey toward thewelcoming porchlight, she stumbles again, almost twisting her ankle in those crazy heels she’s wearing.
Sweeping her off her feet, I realise my mistake too late when she snuggles in tight and presses her face into the side of my neck.
“Mmmm,” she murmurs, “you smell so good.”
“Where’s your keys, Jamie?” I ask, barely able to form words as I take the three steps up to her porch.
Keeping an arm slung around my neck, she pulls her purse into her lap. With fumbling fingers, she undoes the clasp, digs out a small bunch of keys and dangles them in front of my face.
“I’ll need to set you down,” I tell her.
“No. I don’t think I can stand up,” she grumbles, pouting her bottom lip. It takes everything I have not to pull it into my mouth and nip it.
“Then how do we get the door open?”
Grinning, she forces the keys into my hand gripping her thigh. I awkwardly hold her while I separate one key from the rest. Bending a little, I fumble around until the key slides into the lock. But it doesn’t turn
As I feel for the next key, she presses her face into my neck and makes no secret of the fact that she’s inhaling my scent again.
“Do you taste as good as you smell?” she mumbles.
Before the words even sink in, her lips brush my skin. I freeze.
“Hmm … salty,” she whispers in my ear.
Trying to ignore my body’s reaction, I shove the next key into the lock. Still no bloody luck.
Then her damp lips kiss my neck, and I almost drop her when she gives me a little nip. Just enough to send a solid flow of blood straight to my dick.
And she does it again. A little harder. When she releases my flesh from between her teeth, she covers the spot with her openmouth. I remain motionless, all reason leaving my brain the moment her tongue touches my skin and swirls.
I can’t control the rumble escaping my throat. Her lips are soft and wet and hot against my neck, and all I want is more. I want everything I can’t have and it’s goddamn torture.
Before I can dwell on that thought, I suddenly feel suction. She’s giving me a fucking love bite.
Jesus.
And I don’t do a single thing to stop it. I should jerk away, put her down, get some distance between us, but I can’t. I stand rooted to the spot, trembling a little, though whether from the strain of holding her so long or from the effect she’s having on me, I'm not sure. All I want right now is to enjoy her lips and tongue on me while I wonder what that suction might feel like on my cock.
As suddenly as she latched onto me, she releases me with a giggle. “Why’re you puffed?”
It’s only then I realise I’m breathing like I’ve done fifty laps of the exercise yard.
“I’m trying to find the right bloody key,” I grumble.
Doing just that, I shove another one in the lock and, thank Christ, it turns. As the door swings inward, I stride inside and close it with my heel. Coming to a stop, I take in the soft light glowing from a lamp beside the couch. The open plan living area contains a big-screen TV, a cozy, thick-pile rug and an assortment of paintings on the walls. Further in, a dining table rests to the right of the couch and a breakfast bar separates the kitchen from the rest of the room.
Even though cool air-conditioning caresses my skin, the atmosphere is warm. Jamie clearly takes pride in her home.
“Oh! I remember!” she suddenly announces.
“What?”
“The rhyme I made up when Anika was little.”
