Page 6 of The Weight Of Falling
I press my body against his. My fingers remain curled in his shirt, holding him against me while I let my other hand graze the nape of his neck.
His breath catches and something loosens inside me.
I press myself closer, feeling the solid strength of him against me. My hand travels across his broad shoulders, down to the muscles in his back. Surprise flickers through me. Has Bobby been working out? He’s so much more muscular than I remember.
“Look, I—”
I rise up on my toes and my lips chase his, silencing him.
His body remains strangely tense, but I feel the exact moment the tension leaves him and he finally responds the way I want him to. His hand finds my hip and he pulls me against him. My pulse races at the close contact. He’s warm and strong. And he smells so good, a new intoxicating mix of cedar and soap.
My lips brush his, toying and teasing. Then his mouth opens to mine, and suddenly the playing is over. The instant his tongue touches mine, fire ignites inside me.
He deepens the kiss and his fingers fist in my hair, angling my head in the exact way he wants it to gain better access to my mouth. The expert sweep of his tongue unravels me. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
Any illusion I have that I’m in control is gone. Bobby takes over in a way he never did while we were dating. He’s definitely picked up some skills.
I like it. I like it a lot.
Kissing Bobby had always felt like gentle waves lapping against the shore of my body, comfortable and non-threatening. But this kiss is a tidal wave crashing over me, sweeping my feet out from under me, and I’m tumbling into the headiness of the moment.
As if sensing how unbalanced I am, he wraps a strong arm around my waist and hauls me up against him. My hands slide up his chest and I feel the strong, steady beat of his heart under my palm.
A groan slips out of him, low and deep, a little wild. I realize he’s as affected as I am.
He backs me up and pins me against one of the shelving units. The edge digs into my back, but I don’t care. He tastes like champagne and chocolate and the most delicious kind of madness, one that invites no thought or reason, only pure sensation. Heat builds and spreads under my skin.
I’ve never been kissed with such expertise before. Somewhere deep inside my brain, a tiny warning bell is going off, but it’s so faint and frankly irritating that I ignore it. And then it’s drowned out by the feverish roaring of the blood in my veins.
My body is aching and throbbing and...needy.
I need...I have no idea what I need. I need this to never end. I need reality to never intrude.
The world tunnels to this one moment. This one kiss. Nothing and no one else exists beyond this dark storeroom.
Then Bobby lifts his mouth from mine.
And a deep voice says, “Not what I was expecting when I stepped in here, but a nice surprise nonetheless.”
Shock freezes me for a solid five seconds. It takes every ounce of my fragile self-control to swallow the scream that rises up.
Because that voice does not belong to Bobby.
3
While I stand frozen, every muscle in my body rigid, the air shifts and the light switches on.
Joel Adams stands in front of me, eyes wide with shock. And something else I can’t identify.
We’re both breathing hard, the air in the room still explosive with heat.
All I can think to say is, “You’re not Bobby.”
“Nope,” he says, an edge in his voice.
Mortification winds its way through me. I want the floor to open up and swallow me. Right this instant. But apparently the universe is fresh out of trapdoors.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I thought you were someone else.”
