Page 67 of Single Girl in the City
He was like some Roman god arising from the storm. His shirt clung to his chest, the fabric was nearly see-through across his flat stomach, his canvas of tattoos visible. His hair and lashes were rain-spiked and his lips were wonderfully, temptingly wet.
“I think I’m seeing your point.” His eyes couldn’t stay above her lips, dipping low enough to tell her that not only had he noticed that her white cami had turned translucent, but she wasn’t wearing a bra. “That answered that question.”
“Any other questions you need answered?”
“Just one. Do you wear a matching set?”
She twined her fingers in his belt loop and tugged him right up in her space. He smelled like spring nights, rain, testosterone, and all things manly.
“I guess you’ll have to find out.”
His hands slid into her back pockets and he squeezed her ass. “Then what are we doing standing in the rain?”
She fisted her hands in his shirt collar and tugged him down—with authority. “Not standing. Kissing.”
“You sure this is what you want?” he asked.
Did he even have to ask? Maybe her non-verbal communication skills were a bit rusty, but she was shrink-wrapped to his body, her nipples grazing his chest, while she rubbed up against him like a cat in heat.
“Oh, I want.” Slowly, ever so slowly, she went up on her toes and whispered against his lips, “What did you say earlier? Oh yeah, ‘Let the games begin.’”
That was all she got out before his mouth crashed down on hers. She went in hot, but he had other plans. Long, deep, slow plans that had her body melting against his again and again. All the pent-up chemistry and denied release led to an explosion that rivaled the Big Bang.
She slid her hands over his pecs—what impressive pecs they were—and around his neck, tugging him lower. But it still wasn’t low enough. Their difference in height made things a little challenging.
She let out a frustrated huff and he smiled against her mouth.
“This isn’t funny.” She snagged his lower lip between her teeth and gently bit down. This time he groaned—one of those sheer-male appreciation groans that got her hot. “You’re just so big.”
“Guilty as charged.”
She threaded her fingers into his hair and went up on her tiptoes, but it wasn’t still enough. “You need to come down.”
“Trust me, I will. But I need a flat surface for that. So for now, you need to come up.” He pinned her against the passenger door, placing a hand on either side of her head.
His biceps bulged, his chest expanded, and his lips grazed her chin, moving higher to nip at her earlobe. Their bodies weren’t touching and yet it felt as if his hands were all over her.
He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes locked and loaded, tracking hers.
“Wrap your legs around me, Angel,” he said, and her bones liquified.
“What?” she asked
“You heard me.” She had, and she also heard the animalistic growl in his voice so—even though Abi didn’t like to take orders from anyone—she did as she was told.
Her feet left the ground and she was swept up into his arms, his hands cupping her ass, a large palm on each cheek easily holding her weight. She wrapped her legs around his waist and their lips—and other more exciting points—lined up perfectly.
She was smiling so big she knew she looked like a fool, but she couldn’t help it. He made her happy. Being around him made her world better. “So much better.”
“We’re aiming higher than just better.”
He gave her a devastating kiss, thorough and slow, building the heat. She tightened her legs, rolling her hips so his hard ridge pressed against her sensitive flesh. He groaned so she did it again.
The rain fell around them, flashes of lightning brightening the inky sky, like embers illuminating the blackness. Their bodies rubbed against each other, their hands grasping for traction, slick from the night’s storm. And their connection deepened with every kiss. She could feel it and knew that he felt it too.
She reached for the first button, then the second and he groaned into her mouth. But when she went for the third, he pulled back slightly, not enough for their lips to part but enough to stop the momentum. And that split second gave way to guilt. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t pretend that everything was okay and that she wasn’t carrying this big secret. He deserved to know who she was and what she’d done before they had sex. And she knew that sex was where they were headed.
This was it, the moment that Abi had been dreading had finally come. Only it had come too early. Regardless, it sounded as if the buzzer had finished its countdown. Her secret had begun to feel like a lie, and Abi never wanted to tell another lie as long as she lived.
