53. Megan
CHAPTER 53
MEGAN
I moan into the kiss, breathless and on fire at the same time. My heart is racing, threatening to pound right out of my ribcage. This is really happening. I’m here with Preston right now. His lips are on mine. His hands are all over me.
When I got that anonymous email early in the week asking me to take a chance on a blind date, I was adamant that I wasn’t going. I turned them down flat four different times… right up until the persistent little matchmaker behind the screen dangled a carrot in front of my face and told me that I’d regret not going for the rest of my life because the man of my dreams was waiting. I was half-convinced at that point that the matchmaker was either full of it or that they knew about my hopeless obsession with Preston.
I showed up tonight, praying I wouldn’t have to pull a disappearing act on some random guy. If my date was Preston like I hoped, I intended to be brave and bold and tell him the truth. Except… then he was standing in front of me, six feet four inches of gorgeous. It felt too good to be true.
But it is true. He’s my date. And he’s freaking kissing me.
“Preston,” I moan, clinging to him like a vine.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my lips. “Been wanting to do that for weeks, pretty girl.”
My shocked gaze flies to his. “Y-you have?”
“Mmhmm.” He flicks his tongue out, tracing it along my bottom lip. The heat banked in his eyes has my blood flashing to steam in my veins. “Ever since you tripped into my arms and I felt that sweet little body pressed against me, I’ve spent every goddamn class hard as a rock because of you,” he groans, slamming his eyes closed. “Hell, maybe I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
“You should!” I squeak. “You definitely should.” My cheeks blaze with heat as I stare up at him, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he’s really been thinking about me, too. “I… um… maybe you aren’t the only one who has been thinking things you shouldn’t?”
He likes hearing that. He really likes it, judging by the way he growls softly, pressing closer to me. “Oh, yeah? What have you been thinking that you shouldn’t, sweet Megan?”
“Just… things. Random, uninteresting things,” I lie.
“Mmhmm.” His raspy chuckle almost annihilates me. “You share your random, uninteresting things with me, and I’ll share mine with you.”
My mouth gapes open. He wants me to… Sweet merciful baby Jesus. Preston Caldwell is playing a dangerous game.
His lips brush my ear before I feel him nip the shell of it. “I’ve spent every damn class thinking about what you’d look like bent over my desk, Megan. Would you stutter and blush when I slipped my hand between your legs? Would you whimper when I pushed inside for the first time?” His tongue traces the shell of my ear. “Would you moan and plead for more?”
“Yes,” I whimper softly… not entirely sure which question I’m answering. All of them, probably. “I w-want that.”
His rough chuckle is going to kill me. I’m sure it is. “Maybe not at school, hmm? Can’t have anyone seeing what’s going to belong to me, sweet girl.”
My gaze flies back to his face, shock rolling through me. There’s no way this is happening right now. It has to be a dream… right? Except, it doesn’t feel like a dream this time. He feels all too real pressed up against me. The heat of his hands against my body is a little too substantial. His kisses are far too sustaining.
“I’m obsessed with you,” I blurt. Great. Way to ruin the moment. Now, he’s going to stop kissing me. He’s going to flee into the night, and I’ll never be allowed within fifty yards of him ever ag-
“Good,” he growls, tipping my head back. “Then we’re on the same goddamn page.”
“We are?” I’m definitely dreaming. Reality is not this awesome.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I came here tonight hoping it was you and I didn't have to tell this mystery date that another woman occupies every goddamn inch of my mind and that she doesn’t stand a chance in hell.” He huffs an irritated breath. “The goddamn matchmaker was going to have an irate professor on his or her hands if it wasn’t you. But you're here. When the universe gives me a gift like this, I’m accepting it, sweet girl. I’m keeping you.”
“But…” I bite my lip. Am I seriously about to object to his plan? What is wrong with me?
“But nothing.” He brushes his lips across mine. “This was meant to be, Megan. You know it. I know it. Hell, even our goddamn matchmaker knows it.”
He does feel a little like destiny or fate or whatever preternatural force is up there, handing out futures. I want him to be mine, so freaking badly. It’s all I’ve wanted since I met him. But… I don’t want to be the reason he loses his career.
Don’t think about it , I silently command myself. For one night, just stop worrying about it and accept the gift in front of you. He’s here, and he’s wild about you. Run with it.
Right. That’s what I need to do. Stop thinking and just… feel. I can worry about tomorrow, well, tomorrow.
“Take me home,” I whisper before I lose the nerve.
His expression fills with disappointment.
“With you,” I hurry to add. “I want to go home with you.”
“Fuck,” he growls, desire blazing back to life in his eyes, more fiercely than before. He’s an inferno, raging like the sun as he drags me up against the hard wall of his chest, his lips crashing down on mine again. “Let’s go, sweet girl.”