Page 33 of The Last Kind of Kiss
“Nervous?” I tease in a whisper, aware of the irony and grateful that we’ve switched figurative positions.
“Yeah,” he breathes, his chest jolting with an unrestrained vibration of laughter. “You’re on top of me.”
I freeze, and I hope the camera can’t pick up on the bright red blush hightailing it over my cheeks. “You’re in breach of rule number two.”
“You’ll have to jog my memory.”
“No lovey-dovey words of affection like that.”
Bristol rests his hand on my lower back, just barely above my waistline. One unadvisable inch lower and his fingers would be fraternizing with my bikini bottom. Fuck. I want him to grab my ass and spank it so hard that he brands it with his handprint.
All I can think about is the tip of his dick flirting with the crack of my ass, and the weight of his ball sack hanging heavy against the backs of my thighs. He’d spit on his cock, lube it up with those nimble, dexterous fingers of his, then slowly slide it in my asshole, making sure to encourage me with soft praises while he fucks me raw and senseless. I’d be a shaking mess on my hands and knees as tears convened in my eyes, every nerve stimulated with each unforgiving stroke. The squelch of our bodies would be enough to fling me over the precipice, and thenhe’d whisper with possessive pride how well I was doing, how good of a girl I was, how?—
“Just stating the facts, Lils. Nothing romantic about it,” he says, taking creative liberty to trace his forefinger along the length of my jawline, goading me to fall into those endless, caramel-brown eyes. They twinkle underneath the golden-tinted sky, shifting to reflect a deep honey shade that highlights the little lightning bolts of green surrounding his pupils.
I never noticed he had green in his eyes.
I don’t even think I realize I’ve been staring at him like a complete idiot until Stephanie shouts from the background, “Yes! Perfect! Keep looking into each other’s eyes like that! I can feel the love from here!”
I sever my gaze despite our photographer’s wishes, nearly choking on the L-word that flies unresistingly from her lips. I feel sweat begin to seep from every pore, my barely there swimsuit useless in cooling me off. If I wasn’t body to body with Bristol, my arms would be quivering like there’s a fault line cracking open beneath us.
I snort a little too loudly. “We’ve been in this position before.”
His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, eyes shadowed by something unidentifiable, and his fingers dig the slightest bit into my skin—enough for a half-bitten gasp to stick to the sides of my throat.
“I’m well aware. Except it ended a lot differently,” he murmurs, and the undercurrent of disappointment in his tone aggravates the butterflies taking flight in my gut.
The last thing I needed was a reminder of the mind-blowing sex we used to have. I don’t have a witty response for this harmless back-and-forth. The only response circulating in my sex-deprived head right now is “God, Bristol! Just apology-fuck me already!” and I think that veers into desperation territory.
Hey, I’ll take a hate-fuck.
No. Bad, Lila!
Come on. Don’t you remember how good he felt inside you?
I’m not dignifying that thought with an internal response. Oh my God. I’ve officially lost it. I’m arguing with myself.
“Stop that,” I hiss.
“Stop what, pretty girl?”
“Stop being all charismatic. And I told you not to call me that.”
“You told me not to call you ‘angel.’ This is different.”
“Hardly. Same intention.”
Bristol’s grown a fucking pair since I last saw him, because he doesn’t pack up his dignity and skedaddle for the hills. No, he runs his fingers up the bumps of my spine, teasing me with a touch made from sin, and I doubt it would take him any effort at all to flip me onto my back if we had enough room and less of an audience.
He leans into my neck so that his lips are one brush away from cataclysm, the heat of his breath hitting the stretch of skin just below my jaw, and a responding shiver fires through my body.
“Then maybe you should make me shut up.”
Stephanie squeals and claps her hands together. “Let’s do one of you two kissing!”
Thanks a lot, Bristol.
I stare Bristol down like he’s the final boss keeping me from my well-deserved win, and I pray that my nipples don’t get trigger-happy and poke through my bikini top. “Just so you know, I won’t enjoy any of this.”
