Page 14 of Wildfire
He finally stops right in front of me; I widen my knees and he steps into the space they create, his body dangerously close to mine. My heartbeat speeds, heat prickles at the nape of my neck as he leans over me. He doesn’t touch me, though; his hand travels past me and toward a shelf above the desk.
Much like everything else in here, the picture he hands me is pristine—not even a slightly bent corner. It’s him and several of the guys I met downstairs, trying to hold up a trophy. They look like they’re all jumping on Russ and he has the biggest grin I’ve ever seen.
“A picture and a hobby.”
I gaze up at him, a small smile on his lips. “You look really happy.”
Putting the picture back on the shelf, he nods. “Best day of my life.”
“Why?”
“Tell me about the best day of your life.”
His redirection is odd, but there’s no point in me pushing him because it’s not important really, and emotional baggage isn’t really well suited to the whole onetime hookup thing anyway.
“I don’t think you brought me up here to hear about my life, did you?” I shuffle closer, legs widening to accommodate his huge frame, and lean back on my hands. “Or do you need a Jenga tower to want to touch me? Should I find a board game? What about seven minutes in heaven? Should I set the timer?”
“Aurora,” he says softly. His hand finds my chin, nudging my face up to look at his. The moonlight peeking through his half-cracked blinds illuminates him, making him borderline ethereal. “If a timer goes off, I’m smashing your phone.”
Chapter FiveAURORA
IEXPECT HIS MOUTH TOcrash into mine. For him to tug my skirt up around my hips, for him to grab and pull and fumble, but he doesn’t.
His mouth is soft, gentle, testing. His hand moves from my chin, tracing my jaw until his fingers skim the sensitive area beneath my ear, continuing until it’s entangled in my hair at the nape of my neck.
Our mouths break apart and his forehead rests against mine for a moment. “I’m not expecting anything from you, y’know. We can stop at any time.”
My heart has no right to be beating as hard as it is. “You know the same applies to you, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
It’s the bare minimum we should expect from each other, but it still makes me feel relieved. He’s the same man he was downstairs; he didn’t change as soon as he got me alone. I didn’t let myself get played by pretty words and an even prettier face.
His lips meet mine again, but this time he’s all in. He helps me pull off his T-shirt, taking a sharp breath when my hands trail his abs and reach for the buckle of his belt. Discarding his sneakers, then hissocks, he shimmies his jeans to the floor, stepping out of them so he’s left in only his boxers.
He starts at my feet, carefully unbuckling the tiny strap around my ankle, pulling off each heel, sliding his hands along the backs of my calves and thighs, until he’s high enough up to lift me from the desk.
It’s not a long walk to the bed, but it’s long enough for my brain to register how perfectly my legs fit around his waist, how he isn’t clumsy like I thought he might be and that, maybe, I don’t care that much about not getting my veggie pizza with Emilia on our way home if this is the alternative.
He’s careful as he lowers me onto his bed, immediately moving to kneel between my knees. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, helping to take off my skirt as I pull off my top. It makes me feel dizzy, the way he compliments me. Like he’s unsure how to say something, but he means it wholeheartedly. His eyes lock on to my face and I suddenly feel twice as naked.
My eyes travel up his body, shamelessly scanning every hard ab and inch of suntanned skin until they’re back on his face and his dimples appear.
I’m not shy. I don’t think I’ve ever had a moment of feeling shy in my life, but the way he touches me so tenderly, the way his breath hitches as he pulls my panties down my legs slowly, and the way he looks at me when I let my legs rest open is making me feel freaking shy.
He leans over to kiss me, harder this time, keeping his body hovering above mine so I don’t get any satisfaction from feeling his weight on me. I can’t decide if he’s purposely teasing me or if he’s just really enjoying taking his time. There’s something polite about it, respectful, not something I’ve ever labeled a random hookup.
His kisses move lower, sparking a fire in every place he touches. Neck, breasts, stomach, hip bone, until his head is right between mylegs. He keeps watching me as he finally, finally, puts his mouth on me, moving my legs over his shoulders, and after that I don’t know what he does, because my eyes roll to the back of my head.
There’s nothing polite or respectful in the way he goes down on me. My heart is thrashing against my rib cage, breathing erratic, body writhing so much he uses an arm to pin me to the bed while he licks and sucks and—
“Oh my. Oh fuck. Yeah, like that.”
With one hand in his hair and one hand clinging to the duvet, my back arches while my feet dig into the muscular planes of his back, pressing myself further into his face. I’d be embarrassed if my actions weren’t met with satisfied moans. My stomach tightens, his fingers and mouth keep the same pace. “I’m going to… oh my God.”
He keeps going as I squeeze around his fingers, crying out his name, and when the orgasm finally subsides, I’m pretty sure I’m goo.
Russ collapses next to me on the bed and my brain knows I want to be near to him, but my body doesn’t even know what planet we’re on. Shuffling closer, he kisses me softly, the taste of me on his mouth. “Are you okay?”
