Chapter 19
Adam
Her gorgeous eyes had watched as I went through the motions, explaining each step, and then something almost imperceptible shifted.
A sharpening in her gaze, maybe, or a thickening of the air between us. Whatever it was, it felt like a hand on my chest, and my throat grew dry from longing to know what it was and what it meant.
“So that’s it,” I said, leaning back and rising to my feet, then holding out a hand to her.
She rose to standing and stumbled into me, steadying herself against me with a hand on my shoulder. The press of her body against mine sent a crush of heat through me, and I released her and stepped back.
“Thank you. Are you up for something else?” She knit her fingers together, drawing my gaze to her hands.
“Of course. Whatever you need,” I said, my voice sounding amazingly normal considering the utter thirst pawing at me.
She sat and pulled up a document on her computer. “Okay. Doorframe hang. Jump and kiss. Neck grab?—”
My eyes had to be bulging out of my head. “Neck grab?”
She glanced up and gave me a saucy grin. “Adam, honey, you know I write romance, right?”
Sensation cascaded like a refracted rainbow through me, her expression and the word honey coating my mind so all I could manage in response was “I do.”
She chuckled. “Well, these are things I haven’t actually experienced, so it would be helpful if we could do them.”
Jump and kiss. Let’s do that one.
I silenced the thought, but another one arrived unbidden. Has she really not done these things? Hasn’t she dated? Had boyfriends? She must’ve, and yet the thought only made the snap of longing for me to be that person even starker.
Also not helpful thoughts.
“Well, we already did the neck grab.” She coughed and cleared her throat. “Let’s start small for now. So, the doorway hang.”
“Wait, didn’t we do that already?”
She smirked. “No, that was a doorway lean. This is literally just you stopping in a doorway and holding on to the frame on your side of the door but kind of leaning down into the space. Can you try that? Here—” she hopped up and flipped on the light in her bedroom. “Just come in here and then lean this way.”
She waved me forward, evidently not thinking twice about having me enter her bedroom, then stepped back. I walked through and took in the view—white bookshelves lining one wall and a cozy little reading nook with a large wicker papasan chair in one corner. A bed with coral-and-white sheets and a pristine white comforter with a bright coral throw splashed across one corner.
It was cheery and lovely and comfortable like its owner. A chest of drawers littered with small items and a perfume bottle sat next to a small closet. And the scent… it was her scent, but amplified in the small space. Citrus and sweetness and clean—I didn’t know the right names for the notes she hit, but they were all exactly right.
“Adam?”
I spun, grabbing the doorframe and praying I hadn’t looked like a total creep standing there staring at her bed. I leaned against the frame a little and raised a brow. “Like this?”
Her gaze slipped down one of my arms, then bounced to the other, and her lips parted.
She cannot know what that does to me.
“Yes, all good. Thanks,” she said, voice a little thin.
I dropped my hands. “Good.”
She bent over the back of the couch and typed furiously on her computer. I followed the movement until I realized the peril of doing so, how her skirt slipped up the back of her thighs and—nope, not a good idea.
“Okay, so next… this is kind of like what we did last time, but more intense. It’s an argument between the main characters, and she’s backed up against a wall and he cages her in but sort of pins her hands above her head.” She scuttled over to a section of wall without a bookshelf and put her back against it.
“Uh—” I cleared my throat. “Right.”
I approached right as she raised her hands above her head, and a disbelieving laugh tripped out. Was I really going to do this? To punish myself by touching this woman, literally pinning her to the wall?
She gave me a soft smile quivering with nerves, just once. And that was it.
Yes.
Yes, I was going to do this because she’d asked me to. And very quickly, I was realizing I’d do just about anything for Josephine Malcom, even if it cost me.
With one hand, I pinned her wrists to the wall as gently as I could while still making it feel secure. “What’s my other hand doing here?”
She bit her full bottom lip, eyes slipping over my shoulder like she might find the answer there. “Hmm. What would seem natural?”
I’d touch your waist, your back. I’d slide a hand from your neck to your shoulder and slip the strap of your tank down so I could trace the line of your collarbone with my tongue.
Okay. Focus.
“Probably here,” I said, resting my hand at her waist, the warmth of her setting my fingers on fire. Naturally, I was leaning close, and I couldn’t stand to be this close to her lips, so I moved my head to the side of hers.
“Good,” she said, a little breathless. “And then…”
A huff left her when I spoke low and soft into her ear. “What does he do next, Josie?”
“He—” It was all air, so she tried again after a little cough. “I mean, what should happen next, do you think?”
I was this far into the exercise and at this point refused to stop. She wanted me to tell her what he would do next, so I would.
“Maybe he’d lace his fingers with one of her hands and let the other one down.” I released her wrists and caught her right hand with my left, knitting us together and gently pressing her back against the wall. “And maybe he’d beg her to use the other one to touch him anywhere she wanted.”
She understood the assignment, her arm floating down and her hand taking up residence at my lower back.
“Good. Then he’d probably want to taste her. Soft…” I pressed a featherlight kiss behind her ear and she sucked in a breath. “Slow…” Another kiss, this one another inch down the smooth skin of her neck. “Savoring every second he got to be this close to her.”
She made a sound, something almost like a whimper, but then her free hand moved, fingers sifting into my hair and holding me close.
She smelled so good, and her skin was so soft and she was breathing as hard as I was, as into this as I was. This wasn’t the hero and heroine—this was us. But I didn’t want to think about anything but Jo. Just Jo and doing whatever she wanted me to do.
“Would he eventually kiss her, do you think?” she asked, eyes closed when I glanced up to see her face.
Good grief, she was beautiful. Lashes fanning out against her cheeks and mouth parted, just waiting.
What kind of help would I be if I didn’t answer that questions with a yes?
“He would. But only…” I brushed my thumb over her lips, and her eyes opened to pin me.
“Only?”
“Only when she was aching for it.” I dipped my head and kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, then her jaw on the opposite side.
“She—she would be. By now. I’m pretty sure,” she said, chest and cheeks flushed and words full of the same need I felt in every inch of me.
I pulled back, meeting her gaze again. The desire there made me go molten with wanting, and I told her the truth.
“Then he’d be sure to give her what she wanted.”
Eyes on her lush lips, I finally released her pinned hand and used both of mine to hold her head and lower my mouth to hers.
In some part of my brain, I’d imagined stopping just before our lips met. Maybe I would pull away entirely, as though the playacting and study time were over, but in this universe, where I’d kissed her neck and heard her breathless with need for me, there was no chance of holding back.
Because I didn’t stop. Our lips connected, a sure press and release, then another, deeper kiss until she gripped my head with both her hands and I tilted hers to the perfect angle, until I’d pressed as close as I could get and felt myself being consumed by the fire between us.
This wasn’t a first kiss. This was… this was illogical. More than nerve endings and chemistry and endorphins, this was a bonfire in my chest, something unfurling into an unwieldy type of wanting that transcended the moment of these touches.
Mine.I captured her lips again. She’s meant to be mine.
I pulled back as the thought finally penetrated the haze of desire and took her in, this woman who’d kissed me back and stolen something from me in the process.
We stared at each other, breathing heavily and slowly, slowly coming back to ourselves.
“Well. I think… yeah. That’s what he’d do,” I said dumbly, needing something to fill the space between us so I didn’t instantly start kissing her again.
She blinked, then smiled. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”