Taylen’s arms are around me again, leading me. He’s so deliciously close that it’s making my brain waves cut in and out. I feel like one of those spiky blip machines. Wait, if they were going to take my pulse, I think it would indeed be full of spiky blips because my heart is thumping all over the place, and it’s affecting my breathing. I’m enjoying every single second of this, and I can’t stop smiling.
I can’t stop hearing Taylen’s granny’s voice saying she’s not going to withdraw the curse and that we should just go for it either.
How do you know until you try?
When Taylen closes his eyes and releases my hands to no doubt transition into some other form of dance, I place my hands on his shoulders and lean in. He thinks it’s part of the dance, so he keeps going. His hands fall to my waist and tug me closer. We’re doing a more sensual dance now, something we didn’t learn in any of our dance lessons. One hand slides down my hip and lands on my bottom, and nope, we definitely didn’t learn this in class. I realize I might never get another chance, and before this, that would have been a relief, but now I find the prospect mildly terrifying—the thought of not getting another chance, that is. A chance to do this.
I arch up, grasp Tay’s face, and drag it down to meet mine.
“Mrmpppphhhhhh,” he gasps when our lips meet. There’s a second of resistance, shock, and surprise, but then he relaxes. If he didn’t plan on doing this, I’m not sure why his hand is still on my bottom instead of the small of my back or my hip. He can’t very well claim to be innocent.
Oh, oopsie, my hand strayed low without me noticing.
He’s not going to pull away or pull any nonsense. Nope, not Taylen. He might be lighthearted and the life of everything fun, but he also takes responsibility for his actions. Always. So instead of pulling away and claiming foul or crying mistake, his hand flies up to cup the back of my neck, his lips part, and he kisses me good and proper. I can feel the kiss from my lips all the way down to the tips of my toes, which I guess would technically be my toenails, though that just sounds creepy.
My heart is now going sixty miles per hour in my chest, racing hard when I’m sure it’s more of a twenty-mile-per-hour zone. I have a thousand questions, but I’m not going to ruin this by breaking the most incredible kiss I’ve ever had in my life.
I’m fairly certain I had a list of my own problems to figure out and a list of reasons this shouldn’t happen, but I’m kissing Taylen, and that’s all that matters. My lips are locked with his, and his tongue is in my mouth, warring it out with my tongue. My body is pressed against his solid body, which in turn makes me feel like I’m going to turn into a pile of goop. I feel hot between my legs—hot and wet and throbbing. I curl my hips and arch into Taylen, and that’s when I feel the hard bulge in his jeans. I’ve angled myself just the right way that it’s now pressing into my stomach. Feeling his hardness, maybe also throbbing and aching, hot and wet, makes every bit of me boil to the point of red hot.
“Shouldn’t…” Taylen pants.
“I know…”
“Can’t…”
“Please don’t stop…”
He kisses me again, bruising my lips with the force of it. I need to show him just how much I like that. I can’t think of a better way to show my appreciation than to sweep my hands under his T-shirt, but when I feel his warm, naked skin under there—his cut abs, the rest of his muscle, and a few small, crisp hairs—I go haywire. My ovaries go haywire, my pussy goes haywire, and my nipples go…okay, yeah. My body is in a crisis—an extremely wonderful crisis. Can a crisis be a good thing? Because I think this crisis is.
One massive hand sweeps down and cups my bottom again. I yelp into Taylen’s mouth and try to climb him. My hands pull his shirt off and start searching, exploring, going to town on the most beautiful male body that ever existed. Soft, soft skin. Hard, hard muscle. I’m pretty sure my fingertips are weeping happy tears while the rest of me is doing a hormonal happy dance.
“You’re built like a brick wall,” I pant. “A super-soft brick wall. A brick wall with muscles and velvet. A brick wall with nipples and hair.”
“Gah!” Taylen sputters.
“Yeah, that just sounds wrong.”
“It kind of does.”
“Shut up and kiss me again.”
Taylen hesitates even though one hand is still gripping my butt and the other is laced through my hair. “Maybe we should stop while we’re ahead.”