Chapter 9 Tahoe #3
I could explain that the chemistry between us isn’t normal—that most people don’t have this unsung passion in every moment, the visible pull our bodies have to each other when we don’t have control over it—but proving it with a kiss seems like a better idea.
“Are you making me feel like this because you don’t want to talk about her?” she says, air rushing out in a breathless plea.
Dropping her chin, I place my hands on each side of her neck.
“I’m trying to kiss you because I want to taste you, even for a moment.
Want to know what it feels like when my lips are on yours,” I say, letting my gaze drop to her heaving chest and the swell of her pert tits.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know about her.
” Hopefully she doesn’t ask anything right now, because this moment is magic.
The seawater sifts through the air, mingling with the honeysuckle vines that have taken over this terrace. “Can I kiss you because I want to?”
She nods, rubbing her lips together. In this moment I’ve never wanted something more. Never held myself back for the sake of anyone or anything else. This right here is the reward. Caroline’s blue eyes, soft skin, waiting lips, and open heart begging me to give her what I want just as much.
Sliding my hands from her neck down the side of her body to land on her hips, I lean down slowly, calculating how long I’ll be able to hold myself back before the kiss has even begun.
Caroline’s eyes are closed, and her full lips part moments before mine come in for the proverbial kill.
The longing is so strong when we connect that I slam my eyes closed and wince as the feelings of…
everything course through my body—an unfamiliar onslaught of emotions.
Moving my lips against hers softly, I tentatively let my tongue slip against hers and moan when her sweetness tinges my tongue.
Caroline makes a small noise of pleasure, and I think my dick might break through its jean cage to attack and destroy, but I’m careful to keep a distance, because this is a little kiss.
The kind when you give a shit. The one that snowballs into a million memories that stain your soul for the rest of time.
The kiss that starts and never really ends because hearts are proven correct.
I won’t get over Caroline or this kiss. Not ever.
She pulls into my body, her hands fisting my shirt.
The excitement inside my pants only makes her more ferocious—her kiss deepening as I try my best to separate what’s happening inside my head from what’s happening on this terrace, in the warm ocean breeze.
I bite her bottom lip, and she opens her eyes to meet mine.
What I find there takes my breath away. It’s like I’ve unlocked something that’s been stowed away for all of time.
I grab the braids that fall over her tits and pull lightly on one so her head tilts to the side.
I kiss her from that angle, sliding my lips against hers while she stares on, mesmerized.
I repeat the gesture on the other side, yanking her braid just enough to get her right where I want her—in my control.
In my arms. I’m calculating everything about this kiss, and she’s eating it up.
We separate our lips, forehead to forehead, and catch our breath when she slides her hands under my shirt and sneaks her fingertips into the top of my jeans.
Her breathing is jagged, and her lips are red and glistening. I kiss them again, just once. Deep and controlled, until she slides her tongue into my mouth, begging for more. Against her mouth, I remind her, “Just a little.”
“A lot. More,” she replies, trying to get her hands back where they were before.
I shift my body back to juke her intent.
I pin her by the wrists against the white wood of the terrace guardrail and kiss her as a consolation prize.
If she touches my dick, I’ll end up inside her.
Right here. I might have strong intentions and valiant decisions about taking it slow to preserve the both of us, but I’m still a man who is wildly attracted to the woman grabbing at my package.
“Touch me,” she says, in between kisses, sliding her lips across my jaw and then down my neck.
I groan at the feel of her on my neck. It’s one of my spots. The ones that drive me absolutely crazy. I’d probably come right now if I wasn’t so focused on controlling myself with Caroline. It’s been that long since I’ve been with a woman.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” I breathe out.
“I’ll touch you, but you can’t touch me.
” I shake my head, trying to shake off some of the lust. There’s no ocean air or honeysuckle anymore.
It’s all sweet perfume, saliva, and desire.
The gulls have been drowned out by the thunder of my pulse.
She looks crestfallen, but she nods her head up and down. “Okay,” she says, leaning back on the railing, putting her hands on the wood, almost exactly where I just had them. “Touch me,” she says again, like it can’t happen quickly enough.
I make a snap decision, because when a woman like Caroline is asking to be touched, you touch her.
In a way that you know you can come back from.
Slow, I remind myself. I need to take this slow.
Nothing about Caroline and me feels slow.
She infiltrated my being—weaving her way inside like a virus that affects my whole system.
I meet her eyes and nod once and let my gaze flit to a few parts of her body.
“Can I unfasten these?” I ask, fingering the metal buckles that are holding on her overalls.
“Yes,” she replies, licking her lips, her gaze like molten lava. “Yes.”
Nodding, I flick them open and let the straps fall over her back.
I kneel in front of her. Almost like the night we danced at her house.
A little more. I can give her a little more and keep my heart intact.
With the buckles undone, the pants slide down and expose the lower part of her stomach and the top of her panties.
Above the waist, Tyler Holiday, I tell myself as I envision licking her pussy until her knees buckle. What will her face look like when she’s coming around my cock? Will her eyes roll back in her head? Will her thighs tingle? Will she call out my fucking name?
“I’m going to slide your shirt up,” I say, glancing up to meet her gaze.
Her eyes are warm, curious, fully trusting.
She gives me an imperceptible nod, so I slide my hands under her shirt and up her stomach.
I watch my hands, like they’re painting a masterpiece instead of touching a woman.
She has one of those perfect kinds of belly buttons, so I lean over and kiss the skin next to it on all sides while stroking the side of her body where her waist nips in.
She sighs, and her fingers clutch the wood tighter—knuckles white and body tense.
How easily I could make her come. I bet she’s soaking wet for me.
Do I dare take this any further? I know she’d be accepting, gladly willing to let me play with her body any way I saw fit.
I shouldn’t. I drag my lips across the top of her panties and listen to the tiny, hot breaths she takes in between whimpers.
“You like that? Me touching you with my lips?” I ask, watching her beautiful fucking face.
“Yes,” she says, a plea for more. “My whole body feels like it’s been…plugged in. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I feel the same way.”
“How?” she squeaks out. “You won’t let me touch you!”
“Touching you does everything to me,” I explain. “Trust me.”
A lock of wild hair brushes her collarbone when she hangs her head to study me. “How can I trust you when I can’t even trust myself? I’d tell you to pinch me, but I feel so good right now I don’t care if it’s real or not.”
Biting my lip, I grin up at her before kissing under her belly button once more—my cock dripping with envy.
“When you touch me, it will be game over.” This is the chemistry I’ve been seeking without realizing it.
Why I offered to help her with projects for a month before telling her how I felt.
When lightning strikes, it’s hard to believe it’s real, that things like this exist in the real world.
Especially for horrible men like me. Men who don’t deserve this kind of out-of-body experience with women like Caroline May, a hidden diamond in this tiny, perfect town.
This is where my life has been hiding all of this time.
I’ve endured so much to get to this point. Don’t fuck it up, my mind whispers.
The surreal floating sensation extends to her awareness, too.
“I won’t pinch you, but,” I say, dragging my lips across her stomach to end under her ribcage, and bite the tender skin hard enough to make it red.
Caroline squeals in delight, taking my head into her hands in tight fists.
There are three freckles on her lower stomach that I connect with my pointer finger.
One strays desperately close to her panties, and I snap the elastic.
The slapping sound against her skin sends a shock to my dick.
I stand, keeping my hands on her skin because I know she wants more.
Things I can’t give her yet, but I want to please her.
Fuck, do I want to please her, make her happy in any way I can.
When I’m upright, she pulls me by the collar in for another kiss.
Mouth to mouth, chest to chest. I swallow, and a taste of her slides down my throat, hitting my system like a drug. Is this chick even real?
I don’t need intuition, practice, or even skill. I only need her.
I am so fucked.