Page 40 of Take This Heart
“That was fun,” he says.
I nod, my eyes dropping to his mouth.
He lets out a quiet laugh.
“What?” I ask.
“You should probably not look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I whisper.
“Like you want me to ruin you.”
The breath leaves my lungs and my skin prickles with heat. Suddenly, I’m leaning in before I even decided to.
“Milo—”
He’s already there.
My insides light up when I feel his lips on mine. His mouth. It’s the mouth ofchampions. The lips that dreams are made of. He kisses me like today is our last day on Earth and the only thing he cares about is worshipping my mouth. He savors me, slowly at first. His hand comes up to cradle my jaw, thumb sliding just under my ear as his lips part mine. I gasp—he takes it. And then all carefulness is gone. I lean into him, my hand fisting his shirt, and he tugs me closer. Pretty soon, I’m halfway over the console.
It’s hot and clumsy and crazed. I don’t even know who moans first. Might’ve been me. Might’ve been him.
He pulls me closer, his hands on my waist, and guides me into his lap. He groans when I’m flush against him and I letout a little whimper. He’ssohard. I want my hands all over him, my mouth, every part of me touching him.
We don’t stop.
And it just gets better.
Better than the art gala. Better than a minute ago.
His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back as he moves to my neck. I’m making sounds I didn’t know I could make—soft, needy, wrecked.
He’s ruining me all right.
“You’re so beautiful, Goldie…”
His lips find mine again and we kiss until the windows fog. My hands are under his shirt, and his breath stutters when I rake my nails down his chest. My thighs are shaking with how much I want him.
Milo pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. Our breaths are fast and shallow, and his hands stay firmly on my waist.
“Have I just complicated everything?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper.
It sobers me right up and I start to move off of him. His fingers lift my chin and his eyes meet mine.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the last time we kissed.” His voice is husky. His expression is raw.
So have I, but I don’t dare tell him that. I don’t trust myself not to complicate things even further because I want to repeat everything that just happened, and then some.
This time when I move off of him, he doesn’t stop me. I open the car door and he opens his.
“Oh, you don’t have to get out,” I tell him.
“I’ll make sure you get to your door okay,” he says.
I fumble with unlocking the door, feeling all thumbs. Dad surprises us by opening the door.
