Chapter 23
PENN
I don’t have a single coherent thought running through my mind as I carry Hazel away from the party, except that I need to get her alone.
Now.
When I stormed downstairs to her apartment earlier, I didn’t know what I expected to find as I pushed past Chadwick at her front door and rushed to her room—but it certainly wasn’t Hazel looking like that.
The red two-piece dress alone was enough to light a fire in me, but the fact that she was wearing it for me made it insanely hotter.
Dancing against her, moving with her, feeling her pulse thrumming beneath her skin as I moved my hands over her, poured kerosene over the proverbial flames…
and then, that damned body shot was my undoing.
I can still taste her soft, sweet skin on my tongue, feel the way her body trembled when I put my mouth on her. My hand tightens on Hazel’s thigh at the thought, and she inhales a sharp breath as I stride towards my bedroom with her in my arms.
I walk us inside the darkened room and slam the door behind us, blocking out the people and the party and the whole world that exists outside of us at this moment.
“Penn…” Hazel rasps.
Hearing my name come from her mouth in that tone frays the last shreds of my self-control.
I adjust her in my grip until her legs wrap around my waist, and her hands thread through my hair.
I press Hazel up against the door until my body is flush with hers, desperately seeking as much contact as possible.
I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, and her fingertips pull the hair at the nape of my neck so hard that somewhere in the back of my hazy mind, I register that it hurts, but it also feels so good.
“I needed to get you alone,” I hiss against her skin.
Hazel shudders as she squirms against me. “Penn…” she trails off, her sentence left unfinished and hanging between us as she sucks in another shaky breath.
I pull back far enough that I can look at her, and with her weight now supported against the door, I remove my hands from where they’re holding her thighs and slide them up her body, skimming her hips, her ribs, before I drag my fingertips against her collarbones—so delicate under my hands—and then move them up to cup her face.
I tilt Hazel’s chin up so she’s looking at me.
The molten expression on her face, it takes everything in me not to claim her mouth then and there.
Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her pupils dilated, and her sexy red lips are parted in a perfect little O-shape.
Her frantic pulse is pounding under my fingers on her neck, and her chest is rising and falling quickly with short, sharp breaths.
She wants this kiss to be real as much as I do.
But I know that could be her body talking. The chemistry crackling between us is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Before I kiss her for real, I need confirmation that she’s not being driven solely by the heat of the moment. I don’t want her to do anything that she’ll regret tomorrow.
I lean my forehead against hers, trying to catch my breath. Her lips are so close. So tempting. I cup her face a little tighter.
“Is this a bad idea?” I grit out, at the same time reaching around and removing the clip from her hair so her curls spill over her shoulders.
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head, then sinks her teeth into her lower lip. “It doesn’t feel like a bad idea.”
Our bodies are pressed together so tight, it’s torture. Hazel whimpers, and I swallow.
“We’re completely alone right now,” I say, millimeters from her mouth. “Which means this isn’t part of our agreement.”
Her breath is coming in pants as she shifts her weight. “Maybe we could amend our agreement,” she says shakily, her hands running through my hair before she pulls my head closer.
“What did you have in mind?” I ask, my voice breathless. I can no longer think of a single good reason why we shouldn’t give into our burning attraction for each other.
Hazel is apparently on the same page, because her eyes flare as she whispers, “What if, for the rest of the time in our agreement, you can kiss me anytime you want? In public or private?”
“Like this?” I brush my lips against hers, feather soft and fleeting, and my legs almost buckle under me when she moans.
“Yes,” she breathes out. “Just like that.” Her thighs tighten around my waist, and she utters a desperate plea against my mouth, “Kiss me again, Penn.”
That's all I need.
“Puck it,” I murmur as I close the remaining distance between us. Her lips part for me immediately, and I swallow the little gasp she makes as I finally—finally—put my mouth on hers the way I've been dreaming of doing for weeks.
Hazel’s lips are warm and soft, and she tastes like a heady combination of maple and whisky.
I’m greedy, right away needing more. I wrap her long curly hair around my fist, tilting her head back and sliding my tongue against hers.
Our tongues tangle together, creating an electric sensation that pulses through my whole body.
She hums into my mouth, her back arching.
The scent of her skin, the flavor of her mouth, and the heat of her body overwhelm my senses.
I allow myself to get lost in everything Hazel.
Nothing has ever felt this good. This right.
I drag my mouth away from hers and she makes an indignant sound, trying to tug my head back down so my lips are on hers again, but I don’t give her that just yet.
Hazel brings her hands to my chest, and I slide my hand out of her hair to gently grab her wrists before pinning them above her head, holding her in place.
I’m a man on a mission, desperate to find out what she likes; what makes her feel good.
I press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the base of her neck, tasting the same silky, sweet skin there that I was breathing in earlier and relishing in the way her pulse jumps under my lips.
She tastes as good as she smells. I’m drunk on her as I kiss my way back up her neck before running my tongue along her bottom lip, licking the taste of sweetness there.
In response, she smiles wickedly and nips my lip with her teeth.
I chuckle, unable to remember the last time I had this much fun.
I keep Hazel’s hands pinned above her head as I claim her mouth again, giving her what she wants and relishing in the little sounds she makes. I don’t know how long we stay wrapped up in each other, both exploring and tasting and teasing, but I do know I could happily stay here forever.
Eventually, a sharp knock on the other side of the door has us plunging back into reality, and we hurriedly break apart, both struggling to catch our breath. My hands release hers, and I lay my head on Hazel’s shoulder.
“What could you possibly want?” I snap at whoever is behind the door.
Which might be considered rude, given my roommates threw me a great party, but I was busy, dammit.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Surprisingly, it’s Noah, not Fisher…
and he sounds amused. “But we got you a cake and we were kind of wanting to cut it soon—Carver and his wife have to get home because they only have their babysitter until eleven.” I can hear the smirk in his voice as he adds, “Plus, after midnight it’s technically not even your birthday anymore. ”
I lift my head up so I can look at Hazel. Her lips are swollen and red, her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes look wild…and she’s never looked more gorgeous.
“I can’t believe it’s so late,” she whispers. “We were in here for a while.”
I grin as I reach out to slide the strap of her dress, which slipped down at some point during our kiss, back up onto her shoulder. “Guess time flies when you’re having fun.”
“So, you like the red dress?” she asks, her expression taking on a shy look of vulnerability.
My smile softens, realizing that dressing up like this was brave of her since she doesn’t usually dress this way. “I love this look,” I say. “But I also kind of miss your jumper.” I lower my voice. “You look great both ways, and I think we would’ve had fun no matter what you wore tonight.”
This makes her cheeks turn crimson, almost the exact color of her dress.
I press a soft, slow kiss to Hazel’s mouth. “So.” I kiss her again. “Much.” Another kiss. “Fun.”
“Guys? Hello?” Noah calls.
Hazel’s eyes meet mine, and we both burst into laughter.
I raise a brow at her. “You game for cake?”
She smirks. “You could say I’ve worked up an appetite.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I say, before raising my voice, and calling out, “Sorry, Downsby, we’ll be right out. Cake sounds great.”
A few minutes later, we re-emerge to the party, both still a little breathless and disheveled.
A whole hockey team is in attendance, so of course we’re greeted by multiple catcalls and whoops, and I’m worried that Hazel will be embarrassed, but she grins sheepishly, seeming to take it in stride.
She looks at ease, like she isn’t second-guessing her decision to change our rules.
Her hair is still down. I can hardly take my eyes off of her curls, remembering how her thick hair felt wrapped around my hand. I’m already ready for a repeat performance of those insanely hot kisses.
Fisher carries out a ridiculous cake that says It’s Your Birthday, Eh? on the front in red frosted letters, and everyone sings “Happy Birthday.”
A sense of contentment settles over me as I slide my arm around Hazel and pull her into my side before I blow out my candles. At this moment, I’m truly happy. I have everything I could have ever asked for in my life.
I haven’t made a birthday wish since I was five years old, but this year, I do.
It’s for this feeling to stay for as long as possible.