I’m still disoriented from the whole thing. And ridiculously turned on, which is why I need to go. I don’t trust myself right now. My thoughts this entire evening have been singularly focused on one thing and that thing… is now walking toward me unbuttoning his shirt.
Oh. My. Goodness. Gracious.
“I’m just gonna change quick,” he says, yanking the newly freed fabric over his shoulders.
I can’t breathe as he slides out of it, every muscle flexing and defined through his thin undershirt. “You okay? Want to borrow something? That dress looks…” He stops, his expression shifting when he notices mine. I still haven’t moved. Heck, my mouth is probably hanging open all cartoon-like, and I tighten my jaw, relieved when my lips don’t adjust. They’re still closed at least.
“What?” he asks, taking another step forward. He follows my gaze to his chest, a mischievous smile breaking over his lips when he clues into what’s happening right now. “Ah.”
He takes another step forward, and I step back. He pulls his undershirt over his head, dropping it behind him on the floor.
Oh. Crap. Oh, oh, oh.
I blink, trying to pretend every cell in my body isn’t suddenly on fire. That with each step toward me he isn’t torturing the very structure of my insides. My fingers ball into fists, trembling with the need to touch him. I take another step back. He moves forward. I move again and stiffen at the feel of the wall at my back. Nowhere to run anymore. I will have to tell him I don’t want him. Force my mouth to utter that blatant lie because right now, there’s nothing I want more.
I lick my lips when he closes the remaining space between us, crowding me against the wall. His forearms brace on either side of my head as he hovers centimeters away. I feel the heat of his body, breathe in that intoxicating cologne.
Say it, Hadley. Lie to him. You know this is a mistake. You know this is irresponsible.
I also know I’ve never wanted someone so much in my life.
“Hadley,” he says quietly, his eyes searching mine. His lips are right there. Waiting, just waiting for the slightest encouragement.
“Julian,” I whisper back. I’m shaking from the effort of resisting him. I lock my fists behind my back to keep them from doing what they want. He steps even closer, his hips now aligned with mine, his chest pressing me further into the wall. I gasp in a late breath. Time stops. The universe too as I search his eyes.
It’s my leg that makes the decision.
He stiffens in surprise when my heel tucks behind his ankle and forces him even closer. An involuntary groan escapes me when his hips shove into me, rocking me with the force of how much he wants me too. I reach around him and grip the edge of his jeans, positioning him exactly where I want him, gasping when he pushes again. And again. I let go to find the button on his jeans.
“Hadley,” he breathes out, shoving his hand in my hair and pulling my lips to his.
His mouth covers mine, almost desperate in the way his tongue seeks refuge. Or maybe I’m the desperate one. My fingers release the button and slip around his neck, angling us to deepen the kiss. I want to consume him, to take all of him at once. What felt too fast a minute ago now feels painfully slow.
Our bodies slide together to the rhythm of our kiss, our hips grinding in unison with each volley of our lips. We’re fluid, molten lava molding together in a violent eruption. He groans and reaches for the zipper on my dress, tugging it down with angry force. I let the dress fall to my feet, stepping out.
“Holy fu—crap,” he mutters, staring at me.
Who needs to be a model when Julian Campbell looks at you like that? I feel like a runway bombshell when his eyes fill with covetous wonder, his head shaking in disbelief.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say, yanking his jeans down and throwing my arms around his neck again. It’s my favorite position, when every part of me touches every part of him. He frees himself from his pants, and I take a step, forcing him back. Then another. And another. Soon I’m backing him down the hall toward his room. I kick the door closed behind me and shove him on the bed.
His grin.
I forget my urgency, paralyzed by the image of him. He seems just as taken with me, his eyes moving rapidly, as if trying to absorb me all at once.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes out, shaking his head.
“So are you,” I say with a coy smile, finally moving forward.
“Right,” he huffs.
I study his face as I straddle him on the bed, curious about his response. He’s so confident, so sure about everything he does. Surely, he knows he’s girl crack with his gorgeous everything and bad-boy vibe.
I trace my finger down his cheek, lost again in his conflicted expression. What’s he thinking right now? I’ve never wanted to read minds so much in my life.
“Hadley, if you don’t want to do this, we can—”
I cut him off with another kiss, my hands sinking into his hair again and tugging like I’ve seen him do so many times. I now realize how jealous I was of his fingers. Maybe I was being a pain in the ass just to enjoy the image of his exasperation.
His arms wrap around me as my legs circle his back, locking us together in an upright position. I like this pose even more, our bodies intertwined as one, the perfect fit. Mess and fixer. Rulebreaker and rule-follower. Two souls existing alone that suddenly make sense together.
No one fires me up like Julian Campbell because no one scrapes my soul like he does. We’re abrasions for each other, filing the other down so the best pieces of ourselves can shine through. Now that I’ve glimpsed what he could be, I’m hopelessly addicted. Does he feel the same?
“This is irresponsible, you know,” I say, sinking down hard in his lap. He hisses in a breath at the direct contact, and I kiss him as I rock again. And again. And again, digging my heels into his back until he tilts his head up and closes his eyes.
“You’re killing me,” he rasps out.
“Yeah? Good.” I shove him back and unclasp my bra, loving the way his eyes widen. I give him just a second to enjoy before reaching for the drawer on his nightstand.
He pushes up on his elbows. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for a condom. Geez, this drawer is a mess. How do you find anything in here?”
He shakes his head with a wry smile I’m starting to enjoy more and more. Twisting toward the drawer, he reaches in. Sure enough, he doesn’t even need to look to grab what we need.
“It’s an organized mess,” he says smugly.
He chuckles when I shove him back down, throwing his arms up in playful surrender to rest above his head. I slide my hands along them, tracing every muscle and tattoo I can touch on the path to his hands. Entwining my fingers with his, I transfer the small package from his palm to mine while my mouth finds his again. Gosh, he tastes and feels so good. My body is already buzzing, desperate to experience his in a way I’ve never felt before. I’m not a virgin by any means, but this foreign fire makes it feel that way. I’ve been missing out.
I gasp when we come together, closing my eyes to soak in every movement, every sensation. Urgent becomes slow again as sweet tension builds in my belly. I move once, triggering a potent spark. I move again, sending another red-hot spear straight to my core.
Oh my gosh, this is what it’s supposed to feel like? I’m already breathless when he starts to move with me. Tiny sparks flicker around sharper surges, spiking through my bloodstream into every recess of my body. I’m air and water and fire all at once, weightless as my body is ravaged by sensations I can no longer contain. They’re too much, building, blazing, swelling hotter just when I’m sure I can’t take more.