Chapter 13 #3
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think I agree with her on this one. It’s not going to hurt anything.
” Rachel shrugged but was careful not to move too much and accidentally give the impression she wanted him to drop her hand.
Because she didn’t want him to drop her hand.
She liked the way his tracing her skin echoed inside her.
Deep inside in a place she’d forgotten existed, because no one had given it any attention in a very, very long time.
“It’s just a kiss,” Rachel said. “An experiment. Afterward, we can reevaluate. I mean, most people make the choice to let their bodies do the communication, because it’s easy. Maybe we should see what our bodies have to say.”
“This is what Molly thinks?” Travis asked. “Yes.” She nodded.
“And you agree?” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and released it.
Damn. She didn’t like the releasing part. The kiss part was super nice, though.
“I like things structured. That way I know they’ll go as I want them to.”
“And?”
“The truth is, I’m scared of what might happen if we both like it.” She had a feeling she was going to like it…a lot.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“No.” She didn’t.
He had that bruised look again.
But his question seemed like an important one. “Should I?”
“That’s your call, but I can promise I won’t hurt you.”
“You can’t promise that.” No one could promise that.
Especially him.
She drew in a deep breath.
“So how do you want this to go?” he asked.
“Well, I figure your mouth will press against my mouth. Then we’ll see what happens.” Rachel shifted on the sofa so their knees touched. Wait, was that what he meant? He probably knew the mechanics of kissing, so she didn’t need to provide a tutorial.
He didn’t move out of the way, he just let their knees stay there…touching.
“The thing is, as April pointed out, you might be an awful kisser,” she said, continuing to speak even though she should’ve stopped.
“I’m not.” The deep timbre was back in his voice and she was really, really into it.
She gestured to herself. “I could be an awful kisser.”
“I can already tell you that you’re not.” His gaze attached to her lips.
“You don’t know. I don’t know. We don’t know.” She was using a lot of hand gestures and should probably knock it off before she accidentally whacked him. “Let’s just do it. Get it over with. Move forward from there.”
“Well, if we’re doing this by vote, then I guess it’s a good thing it’s a consensus with your committee.”
“Exactly.” See? He understood. This was excellent. “For the record, my committee thinks it’s a bad idea.”
He reached out and toyed with the end of her hair again. “Who, exactly, is on your committee?” She didn’t know many of his friends—they didn’t come around when they were in the same place. Mostly because those places were only with his family. “My parents.”
“That’s a really crappy committee.”
“Yeah, well, it’s what I’ve got.”
“Actually, your committee is the worst.” Her fingertip itched to reach out. Draw a line along his jaw. “You need a new committee.”
His gaze focused on her mouth, and the air between them practically crackled. She licked at her lips.
This did nothing to resolve the electric charge in the air. “When should I start accepting applications?” he asked, moving closer.
She barked a low laugh. She actually laughed.
This, whatever this was between them, felt so normal. Not forced. No arguing. They were talking, laughing, and she had a strange fascination with the way his lips moved.
“Okay,” he said, shifting, so he was in front of her, his mouth inches from hers.
“Okay,” she said, moving forward to fill the small bit of space remaining.
She drew a heavy breath. She could do this. This was not a huge deal. This was just a kiss.
Rachel stared at his lips. He stared at her lips. Neither of them closed the gap.
There was a lot of staring going on. Not an iota of moving.
Mostly, she couldn’t move because her muscles seemed to have turned to liquid, she was heating all through, and there were nerve endings firing. She couldn’t say why he wasn’t moving.
Finally, he traced the apple of her cheek with his thumb and started to close the last of the space between them. Her breaths came quicker, the flannel shirt rising and falling swiftly with each inhale and exhale.
God, she wanted him to unbutton the top button. All the buttons.
He didn’t, keeping his focus on her mouth. Which was also nice. He was going to kiss her, and given the way her body was reacting, it was going to be really, really nice. Except—
“Wait,” she said, pressing her hand against his chest just as his mouth was less than a breath away from hers.
He paused.
She pulled away a fraction of an inch.
“This has to be totally mutual,” she said, gesturing between them. “We need to do it at the same time so it’s not like I kissed you or you kissed me. We just do it at the exact same time so it’s even.”
He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers and, oh, she should stop trying to dictate how this was going to go. “This is getting very complicated,” he drawled.
Red flag. Huge red flag. The wielding of the accent was something that should’ve made her pause.
Yet, in that moment? It made her want him only more. “Welcome to my life.” She adjusted herself, pushing forward and basically kneeling beside him on the sofa, so it’d be easier to accomplish the task. Uh-huh, she was practically in his lap. He did not seem to mind.
She definitely didn’t.
Her palm met his cheek, tracing the light stubble there. Everything in her turned on like she’d been in a holding pattern her entire life and had just been given clearance to land.
He moved to her, and she moved to him, and then their lips melded. Neither of them closed their eyes as their mouths met.
He moaned and deepened the kiss. She, uh, may have also moaned.
Also, good news, Travis was not a bad kisser. He was a great kisser. He knew exactly what to do with his tongue, using it like a professional to coax her lips open and get her tongue into the game.
He could open a kissing booth if he wanted to make his fortune. He was that good.
There were more sounds coming from them both, but she wasn’t really paying attention to anything but the feel of them together. She wanted more of him. Wanted more of this—the heat, the sizzle, and the ache between her legs.
She moved to straddle him in order to get better purchase on his mouth.
It was a bold move, sure, but it also seemed extremely necessary because the core of her need was begging for contact.
The softness that was her rocked against the hardness of him, and she nearly came on the spot as they appreciated the hell out of each other.
Mouths and hands and bodies. Travis’s hard length pressed against his fly.
“Rach,” he said against her mouth. “God.”
Gah. She was going to come.
He was gripping the back of her head with one hand and he had a handful of her ass with the other.
When the kiss had begun, it was mutual. When she straddled him, she’d been the one in charge.
But there was no doubt now that it was Travis calling the shots.
He trailed his hand to her thigh, shifting, so he was laying her on the sofa, and he was on top.
She spread her legs. He wasted no time nestling into the cradle of her thighs. His erection pressed against her wet center and this was, quite possibly, the best first kiss she’d ever had in her life.
“So you both know these doors have locks on them, right?” Dane asked from somewhere across the room.
Rachel jerked away from Travis, pressing her sleeve to her mouth. Travis, for what it was worth, didn’t look embarrassed.
No, the way he was pinching his lips and working his jaw…he was pissed.
Pissed and still turned on, judging by the twitch of his erection against her flannel pajamas.
“They’re nifty, you just push the button. Then no one can come in.” Dane was giving an illustration on how to lock and unlock the door, seemingly nonplussed by the way the bottom had just dropped out of Rachel’s world. Though the drop was not because of Dane’s interruption.
Rachel stared into Travis’s eyes, questioning what had come over her. Over them.
No, it was thanks to Travis and his ability to kiss the responsibility right out of her.