Ember #3
He stills and looks at me.
Oh shit.
He then raises a brow. “You think I’m hot?” He grins, teasing me.
“You do not need that ego inflated anymore,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Oh, come on, it was just getting good.” He chuckles.
I flip him off, which makes him roar with laughter. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t, you think I’m cute.”
“I said hot, not cute.”
“Ah, okay, there’s a distinction, good to know.” He continues to tease.
I stand up and throw his jacket in his face. “I’m glad you find my freak out funny.”
Quick as a flash, he reaches out and grabs my hand before I have a chance to stomp away in a tantrum. He moves so quickly, and after the couple of glasses of champagne I’ve had, I stumble into him, my hands stopping on his hard chest, and his warm breath glides across my skin.
We both freeze.
“Em, we’re friends, aren’t we?” he asks.
I swallow hard, hating that being this close to him makes my skin all tingly. “Yes.”
“And you feel comfortable with me?”
I lick my lips. “Yes.”
Then he reaches up and grabs my chin, bringing my eyes to him. We are inches away from each other. I can feel my heart beating wildly inside my chest. “Then let me help you.”
Huh? “Help me?”
He nods as I look into his blue eyes. “If you are worried about kissing someone, then kiss me.”
What?!
I stare at him, heart hammering against my ribs like the waves smashing the rocks behind us. “Kiss you?”
Sully doesn’t answer with words. His blue eyes darken, locking onto mine with that quiet, dangerous intensity that’s always lived just beneath his easy smiles.
The breeze whips around us, carrying salt and his spicy aftershave all around us, but all I feel is the heat rolling off his body as he pulls me closer.
His hand slides up, fingers threading gently but firmly into my hair at the nape of my neck.
The touch sends electricity racing down my spine.
“If you’re scared you’ve forgotten how,” he murmurs, voice low and rough like crushed velvet, “then let me remind you, Em. Let me take care of you.”
My breath catches. This is Sully, my brother’s best friend, the man I’ve known forever, the one I let go of years ago.
He’s everything I shouldn’t want right now, but the ache in my chest, the champagne buzzing in my veins, and the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only woman left in the world, breaks something open inside me.
I don’t pull away.
Instead, my hands fist in his shirt, and I close the last inch between us. The first touch of his lips is soft, devastatingly soft. A slow brush that steals the air from my lungs. Like he’s giving me one last chance to run, I should, but I don’t. I lean in, and that’s all it takes.
Sully groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating through me, and the kiss ignites.
His mouth claims mine with a hunger that feels years in the making, deep, possessive, achingly sensual.
His tongue traces the seam of my lips, coaxing them open, and when I part for him on a helpless whimper, he dives in.
He tastes like whiskey and sin, dark and addictive, and I melt into it, into him.
My fingers twist tighter in his shirt as his hand tightens in my hair, angling my head exactly how he wants me.
God, the way he kisses me, like he’s starving for me as if he’s memorizing every sigh, every shiver.
His free hand slides down my back, pressing me flush against him until I feel every hard inch of his body, the heat of him burning through my dress.
My nipples tighten painfully against his chest. Heat pools low in my belly, as his tongue strokes mine in slow, filthy circles that make my knees weak.
I kiss him back just as desperately, pouring every buried longing into it, the betrayal that still stings, the fear that I’d never feel this again.
My tongue tangles with his, teasing, sucking, biting at his lower lip until he growls and walks me backward until my back meets the cool stone wall of the cliff.
The contrast of cold rock and his burning body makes me moan into his mouth.
“Em …” he rasps against my lips, barely pulling back enough to speak.
His breath is ragged, his forehead pressed to mine.
One of his thighs nudges between my legs, pressing up against where I’m already aching and wet.
His mouth crashes back down, deeper this time, more demanding.
He kisses me like he owns me, like he’s erasing every touch of Kevin’s.
I rock against his thigh without thinking, chasing friction, and the low, approving sound he makes in his throat sends fresh sparks through my blood.
When we finally break apart, gasping, my lips feel swollen and bruised in the best way.
His eyes are nearly black with want, his chest heaving as he stares down at me like I’m something precious and dangerous all at once.
I don’t know what happens next. I only know that door I thought I’d slammed shut forever ago, just blew wide open and I don’t know if I can shut it again.