Now I had to prove to myself it wasn’t a fluke.
I scooted closer to him, my heartbeat thrumming in my throat instead of my chest, where it was supposed to be. What I was about to attempt was risky. Exciting.
Necessary, the perfectionist inside me argued.
He continued to watch me warily as I gathered my courage and scootched the slightest bit closer. The only space between us was the breath I’d just taken.
“I need your help,” I murmured.
I expected his eyes to shutter, but he appeared more curious than guarded.
“We won’t use the straws. I won’t ask you to make silly faces.” I lowered my voice into what I hoped was a sensual purr. “I want to try something else.”
His eyes dashed to my lips and his pupils widened.
“It’s purely scientific,” I insisted, though there was nothing pure about my intentions.
His lips flinched, and there was no denying the hum of attraction. It practically vibrated the ground beneath us. My gaze traveled from the arch of his top lip to his full bottom lip to his stubborn, angled jaw. This was not going to be a hardship.
“Close your eyes,” I instructed. “And purse your lips.”
His expression went from confused to bland. He shook his head.
“Don’t you trust me?” Had I read him wrong? Maybe he didn’t want to kiss me.
He shook his head again, but this time his lips quirked. He sure liked to tell me no.
“Fine. Keep your eyes open. I’ll count to three.”
“Wuh-one.”
Pleased that he was game after all, I licked my lips. “Two.”
His fingers sifted into my hair, sending chills down my spine.
“Thr—” He cut off the word with a kiss.
What I’d intended to be a light peck to prove or disprove my hypothesis quickly shifted into a solid lip-lock. He held my neck gently, but his kiss was firm and insistent. I curled my hands into fists on my jeans to keep from touching his hair to find out if it was as soft as it looked. A small whimper left my lips when he ended the kiss. Slowly, I opened my eyes, dazed by the confident pride in his.
“Three,” he said.
Cade
Tasha was stunned, and I’ll be honest, so was I.
Her “kissing” exercise worked like magic. Her plush lips melted every cell in my brain. And from what, an almost chaste closed-mouth kiss? I wondered what would happen if we added tongue. I loosened my grip on the back of her neck, giving her the opportunity to back away if she changed her mind. But then I didn’t give her a chance.
I’m going in anyway.
I slanted my mouth over hers. A surprised squeak emitted from her throat, and my chest unfurled like a banner. I deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue along hers to test her reaction. It was a good one—she began kissing me back. She tasted amazing. Sweet and perfect. Hot and wet.
One of her hands rested on my thigh, the other flattened on my chest—just sat there like a brand. Our tongues had touched tentatively at first, but then they turned greedy, the long, slow, smooth slides deeper and more intense.
She fisted my T-shirt and yanked me closer. Her eagerness thrilled me—sent a lightning bolt straight to my balls. I closed my eyes, felt the warm sun on my face, the soft tickle of her hair brushing my cheek as she slanted her lips over mine. I started this kiss, but Tasha was going to finish it.
My ears were filled with her shortened breaths, our sipping lips, and the rustle of clothing as my shirt rubbed against hers. As my jeans chafed against hers. There were way too many articles of clothes between us, and I regretted that we hadn’t climbed the stairs to my over-the-garage bedroom instead of coming here to do some very public groping.
If we were at my place, we wouldn’t have to stop.
She pulled away first, and honestly it had to be her to pull away first, because I sure as hell wasn’t doing it. Her lips left mine with a suctioning smooch, and the best part was when her wide, blue eyes hit mine. They were filled to the brim with lust. It seemed my therapist saw me as more than an ill-behaved patient after all.
“Oral therapy.” I slipped my palm from her neck and grazed her collarbone with my fingertips. Her skin was so soft. Was she soft everywhere?
She cleared her throat as she backed away from me, straightening her clothes to occupy her hands now that they weren’t pawing at my shirt. She was covering for her reaction to me. I knew the tactic well, but I didn’t want her to cover. I just wanted to do it again. She reached for her bag and came out with a pen and a pad of paper.
“What’re you doing?” I frowned.
She stared at me for a beat and then grinned. Rather than answer me, she scribbled something down while I leaned back on the blanket and waited. I squinted up at the sun, watched the leaves of the trees sway in the breeze. An older couple walked by with a dog in the distance.
When Tasha’s pen stopped moving, I snatched the journal from her hands, eager to know what was so urgent that she’d stopped kissing me.
“Give it back,” she said.
No way. I held it up when she made a grab for it.
“It probably won’t make sense to you, anyway.” She made a swipe for the notebook again, but I climbed to my feet and blocked her, the advantage of long arms on my side.
Her loopy handwriting was easy to read. She was wrong. I understood just fine.
Slight hesitation before the kiss. Spoke clearly after. Enunciated TH sound in “three” well. Asked a full question without any stammer or hesitation.
That was what had been going through her head while I’d had my lips pressed to hers? My confidence took a hard knock knowing she was merely using me as a test subject.
I thrust the paper and pen at her.
“Don’t be mad. I had to write down what happened so that I didn’t forget.”
Don’t be mad? She’d sterilized that kiss. She’d turned me into a goddamn science experiment.
I glared, hoping she could read the words on my face because I sure as shit wasn’t going to attempt to say them. I hadn’t been thinking earlier, and because I hadn’t been thinking, the words came out fine.
Without stammer or hesitation.
Now I was thinking. Hard.
She was watching my mouth and waiting. Too bad I was disinclined to participate in her outdoor laboratory. I held out my palm.
“What?”
“K-keys.” Fuck. Of course.
“I’m not giving you my car keys.” Her brow pinched angrily.
She wasn’t the only angry one. I snapped my fingers.
Stubbornly, she folded her arms, so I bent, scooped up her pack and the blanket, and marched to the car.
She followed me around to the trunk and unlocked it. I did what any responsible, mature adult would do…and snatched the keys from her hand.
“Give those back!”
I held them out of reach, keeping hold of the blanket and her bag in my other hand. No, not super mature of me, but I was feeling used and irked and half-horny. I was keeping the damn keys.
“Do you want me to report you for grand theft auto?” she snapped, and I tried not to notice how hot she was when she was threatening me.
I tossed the blanket and her bag into the trunk while she informed me I wasn’t allowed to drive her car and how I was being unfair, and she was only trying to help.