Page 98 of Fight or Flight
He pops the case open, and I see what looks like a set of lockpicks, and two joints. “How about these? Will they help?”
“Fuck yeah. Are those from the party?”
He nods and pulls one out of the case. “It’s a hybrid strain I like.” He pops the paper filter in his mouth and snaps the case closed.
I watch as he presses on the case. A little flap pops up, and a bright arc appears between the two metal nubs under it. I can’t look away as he lights the end of the joint with the arc and draws in a long breath to get it started.
He lowers the joint and blows out a stream of smoke as he extends it to me.
I’m perfectly capable of lighting my own joint, but something about the move feels almost intimate, and I don’t hate it as I go to take it from him.
He grins and grabs my wrist with his other hand as he pulls the joint back and lifts it to his lips again. I don’t fight his hold on me as he takes another draw off it, and I let him tug me closer.
Not thinking about what I’m doing, I lean in until my lips are hovering over his, so close I can feel the heat from them against my skin. His lips part, and he breathes out at the same time I breathe in.
Hot, slightly musty smoke rolls over my tongue and fills my lungs, and little tingles dance over my skin. I lean back so I cansee his expression as I slowly blow it out of the corner of my mouth so I’m not blowing it in his face.
Not taking his eyes off me, he hands me the case.
I take it from him, but instead of opening it to get the second joint, I toss it on the bed next to him.
He gives me a surprised look, but that quickly melts into a heated smirk as I take the joint from him and pull a long draw off it.
I hold the smoke in my lungs for a few beats, then twist my fingers in his long hair and grip it tight so I can tip his head back. He lets me, and I step between his spread knees as I let my lips hover over his and breathe out.
He takes the smoke from me, and after another beat, I let go of his hair so he can turn his head to the side and blow it out.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks in a husky voice.
I nod and take a quick puff off the joint, then put the filter to his lips. He takes a drag off it, and a flutter of tingles and good feels ripples through me as I watch him blow out another thin stream of smoke.
I take another hit off the joint. “I still can’t believe we pulled it off,” I say as I blow out the smoke and flick the filter to get the ash off the cherry.
“Believe it, because we did.” He takes it from me, and I watch as he takes another draw. My lips tingle with something that has nothing to do with the weed.
I want to kiss him. I want to feel his lips on mine, want to feel him own me with his mouth the way he so easily does in every other way.
A weird feeling moves through me. It’s not longing, not really. It’s more wistful—sad, even.
We just had sex, and I just had one of the best orgasms of my life, but I’m sad that we didn’t kiss when that’s not what we do?
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks in that husky voice that hits me in all the right places.
Instead of answering, I take another hit off the joint and pass it back to him.
His eyes never leave mine as he takes a hit, and little zings of electricity dance over my skin as our fingers brush when I take it back from him.
There are only a few hits left on the joint now, and I swallow to try and wet my arid throat, then take another long draw off it.
I pass it to him, and this time, when he leans in, I meet him halfway, stopping just as our lips brush. It’s not a kiss by any stretch of the imagination, but the gentle contact still rocks me to my very core. He slowly breathes out, and I inhale deeply, like I’m not just trying to get all the smoke, but I’m somehow trying to breathe him in too.
“This is good shit,” I say stupidly as the world goes fuzzy around the edges.
“It is.” He flips the joint around and holds it for me. “Last draw.”
I breathe in deep, then tilt my head to the side as he uses his fingers to pinch off the cherry and put the joint out.
A smile ghosts across his lips as he leans close, and I can’t stop the moan that falls from my lips when he threads his fingers in my hair and holds me in place as we pass the last of the smoke between us.
