Page 49 of Rock Bottom Girl
Our mouths were so close. Her lip brushed mine when she spoke.
“Because sometimes it’s more about the journey.”
“I’m more about getting there—”
I closed the distance, cutting her off.
Her lips were ridiculously soft and inviting beneath mine. I had to bite back the urge that rose up and took me by the throat to deepen, to take, to chase.
Forcing gentleness, I moved my lips over her mouth in a caress. She was trembling against me, and every cell in my body was lighting up and paying attention. Just a kiss, I reminded myself. Just a freaking kiss. But I wanted more.
Her hands were on my chest, fisted in my t-shirt, and our hips and legs were pressed up tight against each other, seeking flesh. The way she responded to me was fucking mind-blowing. I was painfully aware of everything. Every breath, every tremor, every whimper that worked its way up her throat.
I was hard. Like “welcome to puberty, you have no control over your body” hard.
“Jesus, woman. Where did you learn to kiss like—”
But she didn’t give me room to finish the question. Marley was pulling me back to her mouth and sinking her teeth into my lower lip. That little nip of pain was all it took to shove me right over the edge of civility.
I pushed one hand into her hair and hauled her into my lap with the other. If the kiss made me want more, this position with her sweet round ass centered on my uncomfortably hard cock made me want to set our clothes on fire and howl at the fucking moon.
I wasn’t into overthinking things. I liked her. I was attracted to her. Very, very attracted to her.
But there was one tiny sliver of my brain that wasn’t fully dedicated to sexual pleasure, and it was beating out an emergency message in Morse code reminding me that I was in the school parking lot with a woman I wanted to get to know a bit better before I stuck my needy dick in her.
“Mars.” I drew back and then dove in again, raining kisses down her throat.
She wiggled against me, and the friction made my vision go black around the edges. Fuck.
I gripped her hips and tried to hold her still. “Marley,” I said again. My voice was rough.
“Hmm. What do you know? Maybe there is a little bit of teenage rebel in there after all,” she said. She nipped my bottom lip one more time and slid off my lap. “Thanks for the beer, Boy Scout.”
* * *
Vicky: Please tell me you guys made out after I left.
Me: How did you know??? Were you lurking in the shadows with night vision goggles??
Vicky: I saw him pull in as I was leaving. Figured his lips had a homing beacon on you. Was it just as good as the first time?
Vicky: Don’t even try to go radio silent on me. The last time Rich and I had sex, he kept his socks on.
Vicky: I need to live vicariously through your swinging singlehood.
Me: Fine. There was a kiss. It was nice.
Vicky: *Hulk smash meme*
Vicky: NICE?? JAKE WESTON LAYS ONE ON YOU AND IT WAS JUST NICE???
Me: Go tell Rich to take his socks off.
22
Marley
A millennium ago. The Kiss.
