“Mmm.” He moaned, having not even touched me yet.
“What?” I asked, muffled by the poofy pillow.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that you’ve got quite a nice little—”
I flipped to my side, glaring hard. He put up his hands.
“Sorry! A guy can’t help but notice. Truly—best behavior—starting now.”
I mentally crossed out that last thought about being safer on my stomach as I rolled onto it, taking longer to unwind this time. When he spoke, his deep voice was a smooth rumble.
“I need you to trust me and stay relaxed. I’m just going to raise your shirt a bit so that I can get to your back.” I shivered at the tug of my shirt upward and the cool air brushing my bare skin. But it was nothing compared to the shiver I experienced as all ten hot fingertips found the small of my back, working in slow circles across my skin. He lifted them so they barely touched me. Every hair follicle on my body stood upright. All thoughts of protesting disappeared. And just when I didn’t think I could take the teasing of his feathery touch for a second longer, his palms pressed down on my back muscles, strong thumbs circling outward from my spine to my waist. I stifled a moan of pleasure.
Okay, maybe he had a point about the sense of touch being worthy of favoritism.
With an expert movement, his stealthy hands went up the back of my shirt, past the uncomfortable bra clasp that dug into my skin, fingers tracing my shoulder blades. The tense muscles spasmed weakly, then turned to Jell-O under his touch. His hands were now on my shoulders, my shirt stretching. One of his hands came out to move my ponytail of hair to the side. And then there was the very best feeling so far: his lips on the back of my neck.
He was kissing me. On my neck. I should stop him, I thought, but the softness of his mouth was so... Oh. I could feel the beauty of each crease on his lips as they rested against the pores of my skin. The only sounds in the room were our beating hearts and breath. Why did he have to smell so good? Would it be so wrong to kiss him? Just one small kiss? I couldn’t think straight.
I tried to gain control of my breathing as his hot mouth opened and moved under my ear. I tilted my head to give him better access. Bad! Each taste bud on his tongue gave its own gentle massage. Lips were now on my jaw, and I could smell him, the earth and brine and sweetness of his skin. In that moment, I fooled myself into believing I was in control—that a quick kiss would be no big deal. I turned to him, bringing my arms up over his shoulders, moving my fingers over the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulling his face up the last few inches to my waiting lips.
Kissing was far more blissful and intimate than I’d dared to let myself imagine. His cheeks and chin were rough, but our lips were soft together, careful and slow. I felt his hunger as his lips moved a bit harder, which I found that I wanted. His hand went to my waist, outlining my hip. I could have kissed him all night. It was the most wonderful feeling in the entire world. The tip of my tongue rippled against the smooth ridges on his in a playful, tantalizing sensation. I was so content with this kiss. But it was not enough for him.
His hand trailed up under my shirt, against my belly and rib cage, landing on the small curve of my bra. With one slight squeeze of his hand, the spell was broken and I was pulling my mouth from his. I reeled in my sense of touch with a tight snap.
My hands went from his hair to his chest, pushing him away and sitting all the way up. When Kaidan looked at me, lust raged in his eyes like a tumultuous island storm. He leaned in to kiss me again, but I held my arms out against his chest. His red starburst was throbbing and spinning right in front of me, as large as I’d ever seen it.
“You promised to be on your best behavior,” I reminded him, breathless.
“You kissed me, Anna,” he growled. His voice had gone very deep.
“Well, but you started it by kissing my neck.”
“True. I hadn’t planned that.” His sultry voice, paired with those blazing eyes, told me I needed to get away from him. I hurried to the end of the bed, where I jumped off and began to pace back and forth, yanking out my loose hairband and pulling my hair back into a tight ponytail. I tried hard not to think about the taste of his lips. I’d had my first kiss, and I’d never be the same.
“Why did you stop?” he asked.
“Because you were moving on to other things.”
He scratched his chin and cheek. “Hmm, moved too quickly. Rookie mistake.”
I crossed my arms again, watching him speculate internally like a coach outlining a play that had gone wrong. Incredible. Then he sized me up in his sights again.
“But I can see you still want me.”
I gave him my meanest stare, but it was hard to look at him. Gosh, he was hot! And a total player. The kiss meant nothing to him.
“Oh,” he said with mock sadness, “there it goes. Mad instead? Well, sort of. You can’t seem to muster a really good anger—”
“Stop it!”
“Sorry, was I saying that out loud?”
“I can read people, too, you know. Well, not you, but at least I have the decency to try not to notice, to give them some sort of emotional privacy!”
“Yes, how very decent of you.” He hadn’t moved from his languid position on my bed.
I leaned forward, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him.
“Pillow fight?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Get off my bed. Please. I’m ready to go to sleep.”
He stood up and made a grand arm gesture toward the bed. I crawled onto it, climbing under the scratchy covers and turning my back to him. I realized then that I was still wearing my clothes, but I was not about to get up. I could feel his eyes on my back.