The Senior (College Years 4) - Page 22

“Don’t what? Express my feelings? If I don’t, I’m going to explode. You should know, Ava. I’m still pissed, but I miss you like fucking crazy.”

My heart thumps wildly in my chest at his declaration. I miss him too, but I can’t say the words out loud. To do so would make me feel like I’m giving in.

I can’t do that. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“Do you miss me?” he asks.

He sounds like a scared boy afraid to hear the truth. But when I study his face, all I see is the man he’s become. Breathtakingly handsome with those pouty lips and the intense eyes. The sharp jaw covered in light scruff. He tilts his head to the side, waiting for my answer and I suck in a breath, ready to deny it.

Before I can utter a single word, his mouth lands on mine. Soft and stil

l, as if he’s asking a question.

Should I do this?

Do you want this?

I yield beneath his lips, mine parting slowly as he pulls away, only to deliver another devastating kiss, taking this one deeper.

Yes, I silently answer him.

I want this.

Within seconds, he’s got his arms around my waist and my back pressed against the door, his tongue in my mouth, circling my own. I respond like a woman starved, my arms curling around his neck, my fingers sinking into his hair. It’s been so long since we’ve done this. Since I’ve touched him. Kissed him.

It feels fresh and new, tingles spreading all over my skin like it’s the first time we’ve ever kissed. A groan sounds from deep in his chest and I answer with a whimper. He pushes against me and I can feel what I do to him. He’s already hard.

God, what are we doing? We broke up. We shouldn’t be kissing.

But I don’t stop. It’s as if I can’t. We just kiss and kiss, swallowing each other’s moans and heated breaths, our tongues twisting, Eli’s hands wandering. He catches the hem of my dress and slips his hand beneath it, his fingers lightly running along the outside of my thigh. Goosebumps follow in his wake, I can feel them, and a full body shiver steals over me.

Without hesitation, he grabs hold of me more firmly and next thing I know, he’s lifting, my legs automatically going around his hips, my dress bunched up around my waist. He wedges himself in between my thighs, his denim-covered erection nudging against the front of my panties, making me moan.

It’s like I can’t stop making noise. Can’t stop moving with him. Can’t stop kissing him. I gasp for air when he breaks the kiss to run his mouth along my neck, his tongue licking, his teeth nipping. I try to pull him in closer, as close as he can get, and he lifts his head, breathing heavily.

My eyes are still closed, but I can feel him watching me. Slowly, I lift my lids and find his gaze on me, his damp lips parted and swollen, the look in his eyes…

Still angry.

I frown.

“You can’t deny that,” he murmurs, his hand coming up to cup the side of my face. “What we feel for each other still. It’s there.”

I don’t say a word because he’s right.

I can’t deny it.

“I’m sure you’ll walk out of this room as if I don’t affect you,” he continues, his voice growing stronger, his hand falling away from my cheek. “You’ll go back out to your friends and act like nothing happened. Or you’ll tell them we got into an argument. They’ll call me all kinds of names and you’ll agree with them, but deep down, you won’t be able to stop thinking about this.”

He kisses me deeply, his tongue stroking mine.

“Or this,” he whispers against my lips as he thrusts against me nice and slow, his hardness pressing into my softness. I bite back the whimper that threatens to escape, not wanting him to know just how much he affects me.

He has to know though. My panties are wet. Can he feel them? And the way I kissed him. So eager and willing.

I sort of hate myself right now.

Tags: Monica Murphy College Years Romance
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