All the Sauce (IceCats 4)

When we part, I don’t let her go far as her eyes flutter open to meet mine. Her lips are parted, her eyes are wide with surprise, and I know I match her.

I never realized how much I wanted to kiss her until now, and I sure as hell don’t want to stop.

Chapter Ten

Angie

* * *

I’m not dehydrated. I’ve drunk almost a gallon of water today.

Nor am I drunk. Two watered-down vodka Sprite Zeros won’t do that.

I’m for sure not dreaming because this is way too real for a dream.

Yet Owen Adler’s lips are on mine.

I feel completely unsteady, my thighs are quivering, and between them, it’s a flood zone. Even if I could breathe at this moment, I know I wouldn’t be able to. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to taste him, to feel his lips on mine, but not even my wildest dreams could have prepared me for this. He smells like freshly cut wood and spice. With my hand on his jaw, I find he isn’t as hard as I assumed he was. He’s soft. His lips are thick and feel like marshmallows against mine. His hand is rough against my neck, and the way he holds me tells me I’m not the first girl he’s held like this. I knew before that he was someone to stay away from. But now, it’s damn obvious I need to run.

Once I’m done with this kiss.

His tongue moves along my lips, and I open for him, because apparently, I don’t have control over my body. Our tongues touch, and I moan ever so softly into his mouth. He slides his hand up my thigh, his thumb moving along the outside, sending pure fire up my leg. Our tongues tangle and play in a slow but needy way. I’ve never in my life wanted to keep kissing a person. Usually, I don’t like kissing for long. I don’t like not being able to breathe, but I could pass out right now and be okay with it.

He pulls back first, thankfully, because I’m about to have a heart attack. My heart is truly about to come out of my chest, and I realize once my eyes flutter open that he hasn’t moved away from me. Owen’s lips are almost touching mine. His eyes are half-lidded, dark as storm clouds, and his lips are swollen from our kiss. He looks as if he wants more, but I know that can’t be the case. I feel people staring at us, and between the bartender and the women at the table, that was bound to happen. Needless to say, he’s made his point.

And made me explode in my panties.

No big deal.

“Thanks,” I mutter, searching his eyes. He moves in, but I stop him with my hand. “It’s okay. You are incredibly sweet to do that, but you don’t have to do it again.”

It’s almost as if he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. He stares at me, his eyes slowly narrowing before he asks, “I don’t have to do it again?”

“No, it’s okay. You showed them, thank you,” I say, leaning back and crossing my legs to put space between us. His arms drop to his sides as he stares at me, his lips parting a bit. The same lips I want to drown in. Fuck me, he can kiss. I force a chuckle as I down the rest of my drink. I side-eye him and laugh. “Stop staring at me.”

He glares. “What just happened here?”

I don’t look at him as I pop a cauliflower floret into my mouth. I hate that my heart is still beating out of control. I despise that I want to kiss him again. I’m only setting myself up for failure. “What do you mean?”

“No, what do you mean?” He’s basically staring a hole in the side of my head.

“I don’t know what you mean by that, but I was just saying thanks for being nice.”

“Being nice?”

“Yeah, to show them that…I don’t know, that I could sit with you or something.” The realization of that hurts me to the pit of my stomach. I wish he hadn’t kissed me; it would have been easier. Now I feel like it was a pity kiss. “We both know they’re right.”

I chance a glance and regret it instantly. He feels bad. He was trying to help, and instead, he knows I’m embarrassed. “Actually, no. I don’t know that.”

I bring in my brows, still unable to fully look at him because I don’t want the sympathy. I feel so pathetic as it is. “It’s okay, Owen. You don’t have to keep up the act.”

“I’m not acting,” he insists, so I laugh to keep from crying. “I kissed you because I’ve wanted to since we were younger.”

“Yeah, okay,” I jeer.