Page 20 of Embracing the Beat
“Careful.” His fingers tighten around mine.
Yes, he would be careful with me. The smooth tie is still clutched in the fingers of my other hand as I let him lead us up the sidewalk to the front door. I flipped the porch light on before I left, and it provides a glow around us as he turns to face me.
“Do I need to apologize?” he asks quietly. “What I said in the car…”
Anxiety underlies his words, calling to the uncertainty in me. I want to reassure him. But what does that look like?
“Did you mean it?” I murmur, fidgeting with the tie in my hands.
“Michaela. Look at me.” The way he says my name makes my heart pound almost painfully. Two fingers lift my chin until his eyes lock with mine. “You’ve known me for as long as you can remember. I wouldn’t say it unless I meant it.”
“Oh.” Every other thought disappears at the intensity of his gaze, the green nearly eclipsed by the darkness of his pupils.
My breath leaves my body on a gust as desire obliterates every emotion I’ve struggled with all week—failure, sadness, anger.
The only thing left in this moment is how he makes me feel—safe, confident…desired.
“This is your decision. If you say you’d rather forget I said anything, okay. But—”
I’m in control and that knowledge makes me powerful.
“What if I say yes?” My voice is only a whisper between us, but he’s so close, he hears me clearly.
“Are you saying yes?” He tugs slightly at the tie between my fingers, reeling in my body inch by slow inch.
I relax my fingers, letting the silky material slide along my skin in a different caress. My nipples pebble in my bra at the sensation, and I close the last of the distance between us, bringing my body flush with his and meet his hungry gaze.
“Yes.”
The word is barely past my lips when his mouth claims mine. The sparks from the car, from the moment before, ignite into a white-hot inferno as his tongue teases my lips. He grips my hips, each finger another connection of pleasure feeding whatever this is between us. I’ve known him for nearly my whole life and crushed on him for half of it. But never in a million years could I imagine the reality created by the skillful combination of his lips, his tongue, and his hands.
My back connects with the door behind me, and I gasp in surprise.
I lift my hands to trace my fingers from his wrists to his biceps. The bulge against my stomach lights a path to my core with thigh-clenching clarity.
He’s as turned on as I am. Just from a kiss.
No, not merely a kiss.
A toe-curling, firework-sparking, mouth-gasm.
Is that a word? Who cares? If not, it should be. And the definition would be the way he’s kissing me right now.
His fingers twist in the fabric of my dress at my waist, but he doesn’t let go, doesn’t try to grope me on the front porch. His restraint, the knowledge of something more coming, shivers along my spine to pulse in my core.
He shifts his mouth to nip along my jaw, and my head falls back against the solid surface, granting him better access he makes good use of. Hot open-mouthed caresses move south, settling at the pulse in my throat before he sinks his teeth roughly into the spot, then soothes it with his tongue.
“West.” This is what it means to be consumed.
Because what he’s doing with every glide of his lips, every brush of his fingers? With the rasp of his voice as he growls against the tendon he just tasted?
All-consuming.
“We should take this inside. The neighbors don’t need to see what I’m imagining.”
If my panties were damp before, now they’re drenched.
Yes. Yes, to all of it. Even if I have no idea what it is. There is no doubt what he’s thinking is beyond anything I can imagine.
