Page 34 of Play the Last Card
“Scott? Is everything alright?” Her gaze flickers to the quiet street behind me.
“Can ‘next time’ be right now?” I step forward, hand resting on the door, pushing it open a little further so I could step my body directly in front and in line with hers.
“I– huh?”
“I’m going to kiss you,” I say. Her eyes widen. I lift a hand to cup her cheek, thumb stroking along the edge of her jaw.
“You’re … you’re going to…”
“And this time, you’re not going to turn your head.” I take her face between both my hands, cradling her gently as I step further into her space. There’s a faint blush rising up her chest. It clashes with the soft pink silk of her pajamas.
My gaze drops to her lips. Her tongue darts out to wet them and I lean forward. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
I dive in.
She tastes better than anything I could’ve dreamt up on my own. Strawberries, and something else sweet. Her lips are gentle and soft against mine. She’s timid and shy at first but when I stroke a finger down her throat and run my tongue against the seam of her lips, silently asking for her to open, she does so and my whole body goes up in flames.
Her tongue tangles with mine as she rises on her toes, arms snaking over my shoulders and locking behind my neck. Her fingers drag through the hair at the nape of my neck, tangling amongst the strands and tugging.
Fuck, but I love that.
I drop my hands, curling them around her body and pulling her harder against me. I pull her bottom lip between my teeth and she whimpers.
Forget flames, her noises will have me in a pile of ashes at her feet.
When she pulls away, out of breath and blushing, I drop my forehead against hers gently. Her eyes close, a gentle smile appearing as she chews on her bottom lip.
I smirk, lifting a thumb to her lip and pulling it from between her teeth. She opens her eyes, watching me. I drop another kiss on her lips.
“Did you leave a meeting at work to come here?”
“Sort of.”
“Will you get in trouble?”
“Well, no. I asked to be dismissed.”
“To come here?”
“Yes.”
“To kiss me?”
“Yes.”
As if to prove a point, I kiss her again.
She pulls away. “Why?”
“Because I should’ve fucking kissed you on that stupid mini golf course and I’ve regretted it ever since.”
She hums. “Yes. You should’ve.” Her lips curl, a gleam sparkling in her eye. She rises on her toes. “But this is good too.”
I meet her half way, knowing that I can likely spend the rest of my days kissing this girl and die a happy man.
Chapter Eight