Page 37 of Nerdelicious
“Let’s try again. And I’m not going to move, okay? We’ll just... touch for a minute. You all right with that?”
He nods, faster this time. And he takes the lead, leaning down into me and resting his lips against mine. I keep my breathing slow and steady, letting our lips settle in to get comfortable. For someone who is hard everywhere, his lips are soft and full and warm. I keep my hands a gentle pressure on his shoulders, and after a minute his massive form loses an inch of rigidity and he relaxes more.
I take that as my cue to move. Nothing heavy, a simple slide of mouths back and forth, getting the feel of him. He smells like breath mints and aftershave and soap. My hands float up to curve around his neck, brushing against the hair at his nape. It’s silky smooth, the strands gliding through my fingers with intoxicating softness.
He shifts closer, his hands coming up to settle on my shoulders. Fingers gripping, he pulls me against him. Our lips are still stroking together but now my chest grazes his and I almost groan out loud.
I’m getting hot real fast. There is nothing friendly about any of this. And we haven’t even used our tongues.Oh dear.
I pull back to meet his eyes and get a gander at his reaction.
He’s focused on me with a dark intensity, both of us attempting to analyze the other.
He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs. I struggle to pull my brain cells back into working order.
My breathing is faltering as I pull air in through the nose. This is nothing more than friendly pecking. No big deal, right?
“Good, good.” I clear my throat and force my voice into a businesslike tone. “Okay, now we’re going to do it again but this time with a little more action. Tongue action, I mean.” My face heats. I am such a dork.
He nods, leaning forward again eagerly and I stop him with a hand on his chest. We’re so close I can make out individual eyelashes and a small freckle near his temple.
“Here’s the thing.” I work to keep my tone light. “You want to start slow and kick it up a notch at a time. Don’t be like Slobber Man.”
His lip twitches at that.
“I mean, you gotta read the mood and not get there too quickly. If you’re unsure, it’s always best to pull back and work your way up to it, slow and steady. Got it?”
His eyes are fixed on me. He nods and wets his lips.
His soft, warm mouth is like a beacon.
We both move this time, mouths meeting in a rush. After a few seconds, I tease the seam of his mouth with my tongue. He opens and I brush inside. We’re both tentative at first, tongues playing together in slow movements. His hands slide from my shoulders to curve up, settling at the juncture where my shoulder meets my neck. His thumb stops against the thrumming of my pulse.
I’m already hot and bothered, but that simple movement along with the tantalizing pressure of his tongue rubbing against mine sends heat flooding through me. And I mean flooding. Fires. Biblical proportions. Desire is a storm ready to eat me alive. But desire isn’t a strong enough word. To call it something as simple as desire is like labeling Chris Evans sort of handsome.
I pull away, and his fingers trail the rest of the way up, surrounding my face with his giant hands, making me feel tiny and delicate. We stare at each other, breaths colliding. His eyes burn with the same fire that’s raging through me.
His hands continue to be tender even as he reels me in, and then his tongue is in my mouth again. My eyes fall shut and the world disappears. All that exists is me and him and our bodies, this moment, his tongue against mine and his hands surrounding my nape.
I want those hands everywhere. Thoughts of what he could do with those fingers ignites a whole new storm of fire. I need to be closer to him. The urge is more than a craving, it’s a requirement. I rub my thighs together while pressing my upper body to his, getting only a hint of relief from the contact. A thrumming pulse pounds inside me.More, more, more.The desire battering at my insides is like its own entity, a symbiote with the power to make me even more violent than Venom.
What is wrong with me?
I yank backward, scooting to the opposite side of the cab.
Air saws out of me.
Beast is frozen in the middle of the truck, staring at me like I just reached down and picked up Mjolnir.
“Good, good, that’s really good.” My voice is high. Breathy. Not normal. None of this is normal. I never thought spontaneous combustion was scientifically possible but I’m revising my opinion.
Damn. This is worse than I thought. And by worse, I mean better. He is a fast learner.
“Is it hot in here?” I fiddle with the AC vent, trying to point it at me but I can’t even focus on my own hand movements. It’s like my hands aren’t connected to my brain anymore. No more brain. Brain mush.
His eyes are gleaming. He slides back over to the driver’s seat. The tension between us is so thick, it’s like a physical wire stretched between us. I could reach out and touch it.
“I think that’s good. You’ll be fine. Nothing to worry about.” My voice comes out weird. Clipped, yet still quavering.
