This cannot be interrupted. It’s still too new, too at risk for being the only time I get to feel this. Goddamn does she taste like the most expensive drink I’ve ever had. Scooping her into my arms, I pull her even closer to me, until my legs hit the bed. I don’t want her to think anything other than this kiss is enough. I’ve thought about more. Fuck, I think about more twenty-three of my twenty-four hours, dreaming when I’m sleeping, daydreaming when I’m awake. But this kiss—it’s enough right now.

Her mouth breaks from mine long enough for her to breathe, and our foreheads fall together, my hands still cupping her face, memorizing every curve and contour of her cheeks, chin, mouth. Her eyes finally open to mine, and her hands move from my back to the sides of my face, her fingertips reaching into my hair. Her bottom lip is caught in her teeth, and just when I think I see worry—maybe even regret—flash in her features, her lip curves up into a smile.

“I might like you a lot,” I say, and she giggles, her breath soft and sweet.

She places one hand flat against my chest, putting pressure on me, urging me to sit. I do as she says, but I keep my eyes on hers just in case she changes her mind, my hands holding hers, relishing the feel of her fingertips, the softness of her skin. She crawls onto my lap, straddling me with one leg on either side until she’s completely wrapped herself around my waist, and simply the feel of the weight of her, of holding her…like this, awakens my most basic male instincts. My eyes close, and I growl a deep moan into her neck, my hands finding her ass, fingers teasing the line of her lace panties, and pulling her closer to me until her lips are again only a beat away from touching mine.

I watch her eyes for permission, dragging my hands around her body, up her thigh, to her hips and sides until my thumbs feel the perfect curve of her breasts. I leave her eyes, only for a few seconds, because her body has been invading my thoughts for too long for me not to see how it reacts when I touch her. I let my fingers linger at her ribs, my thumbs caressing the roundness, sliding cautiously until my thumbs run over the hardness of her nipples. As they do, her legs clutch onto me, and her body rolls into mine, pressing into me so hard I know there is no way she doesn’t feel everything I’m feeling. There are no more secrets. I want her—every single piece.

“You feel…I’m sorry, but you feel fucking fantastic,” I say, my breathing heavy and the pressure of everything in my pants truly the only thing I can focus on. She laughs again, the breathy kind, almost like panting. Fuck, I think she’s panting.

“I don’t know what Ty told you, or what you’ve heard about me, but I need to take this slow, Houston. I want you, but this is…it’s just…you’re so much,” she says, her head resting on mine, her hands against my face. My fingers are digging into her sides, fighting against the animal urge.

I laugh at her words. “I’ve been called big, but too much?” I joke, and she shoves me to my back, her hands on my chest, her hair cascading down her face, her center pressing even harder on mine. Oh my god slow is going to kill me.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says, her smile almost bashful. Beautiful.

I reach up and sweep her hair behind her, running my thumb over her cheek. “I know. I know what you meant. And honestly, if all I ever got to do again was kiss you, I’d be fine with that,” I say, letting my hand trace her shoulder and then stop again at her ribs before moving slowly up her unbelievably perfect breasts.

“That’s a lie,” I say, letting my thumbs tease across her nipples once more. “Kissing is good for now, but I’m pretty sure if all I ever got to do was kiss you I’d die.”

She laughs at my confession, but lets it fade into this sexy, sinister smile as her hands run up my arms until her fingers intertwine with mine against her breasts, squeezing them and pulling at her skin. I let her guide my hands lower to her legs, running them up her thighs, pushing the edge of her night shirt up higher until now I can see the pink lace of her underwear, the shirt that once draped to her knees now bunched around her waist. She moves my hands back around her, until I’m gripping her ass again hard, her body moving against mine in a purposeful sway, and she lets her head fall back, her hair falling in waves along her shoulders, her lips parting as she moans.

She moves her head back to face me, leaning forward, her hands running along my chest and down my arms, purposefully, and then she stops as her mouth hovers above mine. “I’m pretty sure it would kill me too, but for tonight, that’s the line,” she says, waiting for me to accept.