8. Kylee
eight
Kylee
"Casper—" Barely getting his name out in between kisses hotter than the sun on this summer day, I choke back a moan when one of his hands drags down my side. It's not only ticklish, but also so foreign that my body doesn't know how to act right.
I should push him away to create some distance between us. I'm running a business here, after all. Breathing in air doused with lust and leather is making it impossible to think clearly.
It's why I'm arching against his touch like my body is starved for it.
This is all my fault. Who else is there to be blamed? I'm the one who kissed him, after all. Twice now. Well, far more than that, many now that Casper's taken charge.
He murmurs a "Yes?" as his mouth brushes my jaw before meeting my throat. Kissing right where my pulse is racing, he presses himself against me once more, adding to the umpteenth time I've felt the current state of his body digging into my stomach.
"We—" Struggling to find my words, I sigh as he gives me another kiss to my skin. I can't lie and say it doesn't feel good. "The store. Anyone could walk in."
He pulls back like he's hearing what I'm saying, yet he's staring at my neck instead of the door. Already cheeky, I imagine what he says next won't be the acknowledgment that this is a bad idea.
"Fuck, you've got gloss there now." He licks his lips like he's only now realizing that my lip gloss is on more than just my lips. "Let me just—"
His tongue sweeps across my skin, a hot, wet lap followed by the scrape of his teeth that makes my toes curl against my sandals, and a heavy ache settles low in my stomach.
If I don't stop him now, there will be marks. Many of them.
"You drive me crazy." Tilting my head back, I can't help but moan the complaint. Do I even know what stop means anymore?
He snorts at that. "You don't have a clue what that word means."
Wanting to argue with him, the words die on my tongue as his mouth drags lower to graze against my cleavage.
"These dresses drive me fucking crazy, sweetheart. How many do you have? One for every day of the season?" He lets out a laugh that sounds breathless. Pulling back, his eyes look clouded with the same kind of hunger that has been clawing at me for so long. "You don't want anyone to see, right?"
I have no choice but to force myself to nod. It's the right answer, even if it feels like the wrong one.
Despite my answer, he grins. Before I can ask him what he's planning, his hands find my elbows, and he's flipping me around without warning.
"Better keep a good watch then, and no one will notice."
Before I can ask him what he means, he's dropping to his knees behind me. I don't even have enough time to react to his movement.
When his hands bundle the fabric of my dress up around my waist, the sudden rush of cool air against my bare thighs makes me shiver. I grip the edge of the counter until my knuckles turn white, my chest heaving as his hot breath hits my skin.
"Jesus," he groans under his breath at whatever he sees. "I don't know if I'm going to be able to be silent." I shiver as he hooks his finger beneath the strip of fabric covering my slick sex. "A pussy this perfect deserves to be talked about. It's so pink, Kylee."
My entire body will be pink if I have to listen to him talk me through this.
"So wet and—"
"Casper." Forcing his name out between my teeth, I look behind me to see this man just as flushed as I am. Wanting to tell him to stop talking, my body melts for every word that leaves his lips.
Trying to concentrate, to look at the front door to remind myself how bad this is, the absolute madness of this—but then the first wet, heavy stroke of his tongue slides up against my folds, and all logic evaporates.
A loud gasp rips from my throat, cutting off into a strangled moan as my knees buckle.
I collapse forward, my forearms slapping onto the cool wood of the counter to keep from sliding to the floor, my fingers clawing blindly at the surface as he buries his face between my thighs.
"Hold your dress for me, Kylee. I want to use my fingers." His demands come out in quick pants, desperation coating every word. "This won't take long, I can feel it. Let me appreciate you appropriately so you can feel good."
Thumping my forehead against my arm, I do as I'm told because I'm weak.
Reaching behind me, I replace his hand with mine before I'm clutching the plaid-covered fabric tight.
As soon as his hand is gone, I'm feeling the pressure of his fingers invading where mine had worked in only the night before.
How can his fingers feel so much thicker?
"I want to peel these panties off and keep them," he murmurs, his fingers curling, hooking deep. "Every time I think about this, I want to remember how slick they are for me. If I make you come, can I keep them? Pretty please?"
"Not a—" A sudden gasp falling from my lips cuts me off as he hits the exact nerve center of my pleasure, making my hips twitch helplessly against his hand. "—chance."
Casper groans, but he doesn't slow down. He devours the quiet cries tearing from my throat, his tongue tracing every tremor, locking me into a heavy, blinding rush of pleasure that turns my limbs to noodles.
The pressure builds—a coiled, heavy ache that tightens until I can’t breathe, stretching me so tight I think I might snap.
"Casper—"
The pressure finally bubbles over, and a cry leaves my lips. Collapsing hard onto the counter, I don't even have the strength to hold up my dress anymore.
Casper doesn't seem to mind as it cascades over him. He's too busy burying his face deeper between my thighs, devouring every drop of my release I have to give. His tongue keeps stroking, keeps burrowing deeper, enjoying every orgasmic clench and contraction.
My knees hit the counter, and I try to close them, but he stops that, too.
It's a pure miracle I don't collapse when he finally releases me from his feast.
"Fuck." He stands and crowds me against the counter. Wrapping his arms around me, he buries his face, still slick, in the crook of my neck. His hips grind forward, but the friction can't possibly do much for him.
I've never been hugged so tightly in my life, and part of me wonders if he'll ever let me go with the kind of grip he has on me.
"Fuck, Kylee." His hair tickles my skin as he shakes his head. "You have to give a man a warning. You should've prepared me for something that good."
He's so ridiculous, I can't help but let out a weak laugh as I lean into his touch. "You are too much."
He kisses my neck only once before peeling himself away. There's no denying the state of his body, but he doesn't breathe a word about it. He's too busy taking in my disheveled state to even care about himself.
"I think you should deliver those books tonight." He cocks a smirk, proving me wrong. "I can send you my address."
Okay, maybe he is thinking about it.
Funny enough, the thought of turning down his offer doesn't come close to crossing my mind. Rather, I'm already nodding my head before I catch on to what I'm agreeing to.
Before he can push his luck any further, a jarring ring cuts through the heavy silence of the shop, interrupting this moment between us. Casper stiffens, reaching into his pocket to yank out his phone. He glances at the screen and lets out a groan, rolling his eyes dramatically toward the ceiling.
"Duty calls," he mutters, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He pauses, his gaze softening as it sweeps over my flushed face and disheveled dress. He reaches out to adjust the back of my dress like it'll make a difference to hide my quivering legs. "Are you going to be alright?"
A breathless, watery laugh forces its way past my lips as my knees wobble beneath me. After an orgasm like that? It’s a literal miracle I’m still standing upright.
"Yeah," I manage to breathe out, nodding anyway just to reassure him.
It's not a lie. After dreading meeting Casper again after I forced a kiss on him, I thought I had frightened him off for good. But now that he’s back and has one-upped me, I’m actually feeling fantastic.
"Good." He doesn't even give me a chance to recover before he swoops in, catching my jaw in his hand for one last, hard kiss that leaves my lungs burning. When he pulls back, he snatches his motorcycle helmet off the counter in one fluid motion. "Text me when you're off?"
Trapped in a total daze, my brain completely fried, I can only nod again. "Yes."
He flashes one final, devastating smirk before turning on his heel. Watching him leave, I'm left groaning out once I'm all alone.
I'm totally screwed. The damage has been done.
I've fallen for this guy, and there's no going back now.
I want to laugh at how I'm acting. Only a few hours after Casper flipped my world upside down with that mouth of his, I'm letting my worries start to eat at my conscience.
What if what he wants is something not permanent? Like, a quick round of fun.
He wouldn't have bugged you every day if he only wanted sex, Kylee.
Groaning into my hands, my cheeks feel feverishly hot against my palms.
I should just tell him how I feel. Lay everything out in front of me, and if he doesn't want the same thing, then being straight with my feelings should be enough to scare him off.
I don't think I'll be able to meet his gaze again if we aren't on the same page here.
Telling someone I'm attracted to them is one hurdle to jump, but admitting I'm feeling something that could be called love after only a few weeks of knowing each other?
? Most guys would run for the hills at something so crazy.
Groaning and whining under my breath for what feels like hours, I wish I had someone to complain to. A best friend or something. Instead, all I have are a bunch of books with fiction written in them. Can't take advice from any of those over-the-top storylines.
While I'm facing a crisis, the bell jingles, just in time to save me in the form of a distraction I desperately need.