Page 43 of Ambiguous
“You sure?”
He bites his lip and nods, but he makes no move to stand.
I find myself scooting closer and closer to him.
Waves crash on the shore, over and over and over again, a slow, building inevitability.
I think he may want me as much as I want him.
Sam is right there. He’s handsome, but I’ve met lots of handsome people. People aren’t beautiful unless they’re beautiful on the inside, though. And Sam is one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met.
I want to make a move, but I’m wondering what to do. If Sam would say he’s interested, I’d make a move.
I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. My feelings for him are the kind that fill albums with passion.
And yet I don’t want to make things awkward if I’m wrong. We still have to work together.
If I make the first move, am I being a complete fool?
Well, hell. Iama fool.
I reach over and grasp his cheeks. He has the beginning of rough stubble coming in.
At first, I can tell he’s questioning what I’m doing, but then his eyes soften.
Iknowwhat desire looks like.
So.
Sod it.
I lean in and press my lips to his, and the whimper that comes out of him makes me absolutely wild. He parts his lips, and I climb into his lap, and he’s holding me, and I’m holding him, and for the first time in my life, it feels like I might have met someone who sees the real me.
CHAPTER16
Sam
Julian Hill is straddling me, holding me in his arms, and my hands are squeezing his ass and all I can think about is howrightthis is, although something niggles at the back of my brain. A gut reaction that I’m not supposed to be doing this.
But my brain’s turned off. I’m afeelingbeing, not a thinking one. There’s only sensation rippling through my body.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against my lips.
I shudder.
He pulls back and bites his plush lower lip, studying me. My body zings with his nearness as he stares at me for a long moment with those dark, soulful eyes, his thighs on either side of mine. He opens his mouth, but I lean into him and silence whatever he was going to say with a kiss, this one hard and fierce. I cup his butt, needing to touch him.
Our tongues enter each other’s mouths like we’re fucking. Jules tastes like the wine we’ve been drinking and salt and all the temptation I’ve ever known. A surge of need like I’ve never felt before—desire, true desire—washes over me as I pull his hips closer so he’s grinding against me. I’m so aroused that I’m having trouble thinking of anything other than relief and release.
My body has taken over with single-minded determination to feel, feel, feel. In the back of my brain is a prickly idea that we can’t do this, but as I kiss him again, I can’t remember why that is.
I’m fantasizing about what his skin would feel like against mine. What his throat, his chest, his cock would taste like.
It’s like we’re in our own world, in this huge beachfront mansion with no one around us for miles. All the windows to the sea are open.
I want this.
I wanthim.
