Page 72 of Starting Over with You
She’s fucking mine.
I move my hand to her ass, pressing down so her hips are flush with mine and she can feel every inch of me. My fingers dance along the back of her thigh as I tilt my head to take her mouth withmine, but I wait, needing her to tell me no. Instead, she lets out a little whimper, and the need is written all over her gorgeous face.
She wants me to make the move.
So, I do.
I slant my lips over Kenni’s, and I take what I’ve been craving for years.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Kenni
He made the move.
Dean’s lips are on mine, and I wait for the wrongness to set in.
It doesn’t.
All I feel is heat.
His kiss feels like opening a locked vault with shaking hands, except instead of finding gold bars, I discover lust, need, heartbreak, and every what-if I swallowed since I last asked him to kiss me.
It isn’t sweet.
It isn’t slow.
It is a fucking crash, like slamming into the wall of a dream I’d pretended I didn’t still have. My mouth recognizes his like muscle memory. And my soul? My soul is already halfway undressed and begging for more. I don’t care if this ends in tears, therapy, or Fireball; I just know I won’t pull away first.
I can’t.
He tangles his fingers in the back of my hair, and I slide mytongue along the seam of his lips. If he breaks this off to run away, I swear I’ll trip his ass. But he opens for me with a moan that I feel down in my fucking bones. Our tongues touch, and I taste the beer he’s been sipping on. Usually, it’d turn me off since I don’t like the taste of beer, but nothing about Dean Moore turns me off. I arch my hips into his, his cock long and hard against my stomach, and when I’m rewarded with a throaty moan, I smile against his lips.
Dean’s lips curve along mine, and when I open my eyes, his are all hooded and dark, locked on mine.
“Happy?” I ask breathlessly, my lips brushing his.
“Beyond,” he admits, his mouth warm against mine and sending heat straight between my legs.
Our noses touch, and I need more. I run my tongue along his bottom lip, and he slides his hand down my ass, pressing me harder into him. “Behave.”
“No.” I hold his gaze. “I want more.”
The noise that leaves his lips is somewhere between a chuckle and a moan, and I am here for it. He moves his lips to my ear, pressing a kiss to my lobe. “Jesus Christ, darlin’, you trying to kill me?”
“I want you,” I say, and I can’t even blame the Fireball.
Nope, I’m fully drunk on everything Dean Moore.
His voice is strained as he looks around. “I don’t see Sadie or Missy. Think you can meet me in the truck? I gotta pay the tab.”
Yes. God yes, this is happening.
“So, you want me too?”
His hips jerk into mine, and while I can feel his arousal, I need to hear it from his lips. He leans back to look at me, need and lustful torment on his face. His eyes search mine, the blue so dark it reminds me of the storm before the crash of thunder. He bites the corner of his mouth, giving me a gorgeous lopsided grin before he tells me, “There hasn’t been a moment in my adult life when I haven’t wanted you, KenniLeigh.”
