Page 42 of Summer with My Sexy Ex
God, I can’t think straight. How does he befuddle my brain so easily?
“I have a deal for you.” Those same fingertips that lingered on my cheek and behind my ear now trace slowly down my neck toward my collarbone.
Thank god, it’s not his lips, or I’d be helpless against him. Something about when Wyatt kisses or nuzzles my neck makes me lose all control. Mind control, moral control, self-control, you name it, and it’s gone.
I keep waiting for someone to tell us to get out of the middle of the walkway, but people just move around us as they go. Like we’re not inconvenient, which I find hard to believe, and just a small detour to navigate.
“I’ll kiss the bartender, and you do the pole dance,” he suggests.
“Okay. Wait. No. Don’t confuse me like this.”
“Like what?” He smirks.
“Like with the soft touches, nice words, and sexy voice.”
“Okay,” he says. “You kiss the bartender, and I’ll do the pole dance.”
“Great,” I agree too readily, but I also don’t want to do the pole dance.
“You agreed to that awfully fast,” he says. “Are you saying you want to kiss someone else?”
His gaze flits between my eyes and my lips. He wants to kiss me. I can feel it.
I want to let him.
I can feel that too.
I shake my head. Because I don’t want to kiss someone else. I want to kiss him.
Kissing him earlier was a mistake. A beautiful mistake. Because now I know what it feels like. Which is freaking amazing! But I am nowhere near the mindset ofmake Wyatt Reed payright now, having vacated Camp Hate Wyatt and all. What I’m in is more likegod I love how the roughness of his hand feels as it scratches along my sensitive skin. And that’s a dangerous place to be.
I knew, even when I was younger, our chemistry is off the charts, even if he wouldn’t acknowledge it then. It’s not any less potent now. I think it’s worse. And by worse, I mean stronger. Even if I hadn’t kissed him an hour or so ago and finally realized the meaning ofdizzy with desire, I’d know that.
I’m going easier on him with each passing moment. That much is clear. And I’m enjoying his company more every time he makes me laugh or cracks a joke, which is a lot. Each smile he bestows, especially the ones I’ve realized are just for me, lower my guard further. And every time he looks at me like he is right now, as though I’m the only thing in Vegas worth looking at, I want to crawl inside him so we can be closer together and never leave.
I can’t seem to snap out of it.
“You didn’t hear the second part yet.” His face is so close to mine I could stick out my tongue and touch his.
“If you’re willing to kiss a stranger, you’ll have to kiss me too. For real.”
My head nods slightly. On its own. Without me telling it to.
“Just you and me,” he continues. “Not because a couple of weirdos with unhealthy hang-ups cause us to.”
My eyes troll up his cheek and jump left to meet his gaze.
Traitors.
So many of my body parts are traitors.
Because, just like I predicted, his gaze captures mine and pins it in place. I’m stuck in his trance, left to lose myself in the navy-blue pools of warmth and desire. Twin orbs of pure magnetism sprinkled with glints of stardust and moonbeams.
Okay. Yep. The edible is definitely doing its thing now.
“Practice run?” His lips brush across mine, barely touching, an exquisitely soft hint of what could be.
One of us moans.
