Chapter 5
YASMINE
Then we’re kissing, and he isn’t pushing me away; instead, he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close, sealing us together, chest to chest.
Pleasure scales my body, awakening every nerve-ending as his hungry mouth devours me, licking and kissing me so hard it makes heat pool at the apex of my thighs.
It’s a kiss unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced and makes sparks fly behind my eyes.
It’s beautiful, with pacing that’s soft one minute, hard and passionate the next.
If a kiss could save the world, this would be it because boy, does he really know how to kiss.
It will be impossible to forget, which is just as well, because every movement, every flick of his tongue, and the scent of his aftershave as he softly brushes his mouth against mine has me wanting so much more.
“Cole.” I whisper the name of the man I’ve just met, a soft moan between kisses, letting go of my workbag, not caring that it lands with a thud on my foot or that I might have broken my laptop.
Entwining my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, I urgently press our lips together, teetering slightly on my tiptoes in my high heels. I’m tall: five feet nine. But he’s taller.
There’s nothing romantic about our kiss. It’s a frantic, raw attraction and sexual need driving us, as if something systemic and larger than us is at play.
Desperate for more, craving him to take what he desires, I tremble as this kiss surpasses all others.
The sensation of his soft, short, dark beard tickling my chin—knowing it will leave a beard rash—pushes me to deepen the kiss.
I want him to leave his mark on me, so that when tomorrow arrives, I’ll be certain that this was real and true.
If I were to kiss him every day for the rest of my life, I know I’d be the happiest woman, not just in San Francisco but anywhere in the world.
Time passes slowly or quickly; I’m not sure, because time becomes something I lose track of as our tongues intertwine, linking two strangers and creating a new, unpredictable bond.
Maybe I’m dreaming, imagining whatever is happening between us, but there’s no way he doesn’t feel whatever this is, or he wouldn’t be panting, groaning, and whispering my name between kisses as if it were an incantation.
When our kiss does eventually begin to slow down, he trails his lips down my neck, licking, scraping his teeth across my skin, then kissing it better.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” he apologizes. “I should have asked if I could kiss you.”
I chuckle a little. “Considering it was me who made the first move, I should be the one saying sorry.” I didn’t exactly give him an option.
I want him. So bad. “It was the perfect kiss.” Now I’ve had a taste of him, I want more.
“It felt incredible.” I rake my hands through the longer lengths of his hair, not caring who is watching us or if the valet has returned.
Nothing matters but him right now.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first laid eyes on you,” he pants against my skin.
“Me too.” But I was too busy having a meltdown. Sorry about that, Cole, or I would have done it sooner. I’m certain I would have.
“You taste so good, baby,” he says between gentle nips at the curve of my neck.
Baby.
Oh, how I love that.
“I’m guessing you feel much better now?” he asks.
Does he mean because the kiss was good? Yes, I feel great, the fabric of my panties is soaked through, and I’m hornier than hell.
“I’m much better now that I’m not on a flying deathtrap.” And his tongue is down my throat. I feel a million times better.
“I figured.” His mouth shapes a grin against my skin, before he kisses it one last time, then lifts his gaze to mine.
Red from my lipstick and swollen from kissing, his delicious lips, which I might never get enough of, break into a knockout smile, a smile that has me thinking about hauling him into the hotel behind us, slipping off my panties, and letting him ride me like a fucking stallion.
What am I talking about? I’d ride him so hard, he wouldn’t be able to think straight for months, maybe years.
What the hell is happening to me today? I don’t even like sex that much because every man I have been with, not that there have been many, has been underwhelming, and the sex just… well, the only way to describe it is meh.
I’ve never had a one-night stand, nor do I have meaningless make-out sessions. However, the hot and heavy kiss we just shared didn’t feel empty at all, far from it. It felt like… more.
The desire inside me is growing with each passing second. I want him. All of him, because he made love to my mouth in a way that I could almost guarantee would make me come without even so much as touching my pussy.
I have so many questions, like, where did he learn to do that?
My core is burning with desire, yearning with need for more.
It usually takes a lot to get me wet, but here I am, standing in the middle of valet parking with a practical stranger. After one kiss, I have no control over my body: it’s all him.
Do I have the same effect on him as he does on me?
When he presses himself against me, I get the answer I was looking for, and I inhale sharply at the huge bulge his black jeans must be struggling to contain when he subtly rubs his hips against my stomach.
“What are you doing tonight?” Cole asks, his eyes meeting mine.
“Nothing.” I have no plans, and my mom is staying at my grandma’s for another night just in case my flight was delayed.
“And what are you doing right this very minute?”
“I’m standing here with you,” I tease, loving that his lips are covered in my lipstick.
He lowers his tone to a dangerous level. “I’m being serious.”
“I have nowhere to be and nothing to do.” Except for cleaning Clyde, my Firebird, which now sounds boring as hell. “Why? Are you going to make me an offer, Cole?” I hope so.
“Stay with me tonight. Here.” He gestures to the grand hotel next to us, jerking his head to the side.
“But I don’t have any overnight things to change into, or a way of taking my makeup off.” I hate sleeping with mascara on; it makes my eyes all red and swollen.
“There won’t be any sleeping, Mina,” he states, his intention dripping with lust and mischief, which makes my knees weak and the air between us sizzle.
“Is that a promise?” I flirt back in equal amounts, almost purring, with a sly edge to my voice, feeling brave.
That devilishly handsome smile of his returns, and he replies sexily, “That’s a guarantee.”
Well, when he puts it like that. “I’d love nothing more than to spend the night with you, Cole.”