The Player Hater (Accidentally in Love 1)

They’re dark brown—the deepest of darks and I wonder why I’ve never quite noticed how intense they are; or when he had two brows how severe they looked. Severe but not stern. Davis has a friendly face even though it’s incredibly masculine. Square jawline. Stubble because he hasn’t shaved. He is so incredibly handsome—one of the most handsome men I’ve ever kissed in my life.

“Friends.” I like the sound of that.

“Friends that have kissed.” He leans forward and I have to stop what I’m doing. “Friends that kiss.”

I can feel him hardening as he moves forward between my legs, leaning closer until our breath mingles. No, I am the one closing my eyes, relishing the way his body heat feels and warms me from the outside in and the inside out, from my head to my toes.

I shiver but not from the cold.

“You cold?” he asks, noticing.

I’m not sure how to answer without trying to explain that he is the reason I’m shivering and not because of the temperature inside the house.

“Want me to warm you up?”

Yes.

Yes I do want him to warm me up. I give him the barest of nods to go ahead and kiss me; the acquiesce all he needs to move forward and take my face in the palm of his large hands, thumbs brushing the underside of my jawline so softly I shiver again.

He gets harder still, the erection pressing against the valley between my legs, counter height high but not so high we aren’t at the perfect height to get down and dirty.

If he knelt, he could easily go down on me.

If he unzipped his pants, he could easily enter me.

If…

If…

I set down the eyeliner, letting it roll off the counter to the floor, and wrap my hands around Davis’s neck, wanting to live in this moment should it never happen again. I loved kissing him while we were in the camper at the lake, and I love it when he puts his lips on the side of my neck now.

He trails them slowly, kissing along my jawline to the tip of my nose.

“Your skin is so smooth.” He’s murmuring into my hair before his lips meet mine, our tongues dancing and intertwining.

Sweet.

Hot.

Wet.

I give in to the kiss, my eyes sliding closed, doing the same thing he’d just done so I can feel every sensation being heightened. It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed; I want to feel his tongue, the weight of his body pressing into me against the counter, the sounds we’re making as we make out.

All I wanted was to bring him the tablet he had forgotten, I swear it—I hadn’t meant to seduce him, or him seduce me, but here we are and it’s incredible being in his arms like this.

Might have been better if we were still stranded in the woods. Stolen away and skinny dipped. Gotten lost in the forest and had wild sex like Mia and Thad had.

A pair of large hands work the buttons of my dress beginning at the prim collar, plucking them open one by one, working their way down. Davis skims his palms over my collarbone with one hand as the other moves my hair out of the way.

It gives me the chills.

So good.

He kisses my clavicle; shoulder.

Back to the curve of my neck where I love it the most.

“We should have done more of this in the woods,” he mutters into my hair. “What a bunch of time we wasted being nuns.”

“You must be a mind reader because I was literally just thinking the exact same thing.”

“Bet you’d be sexy with pine cones in your hair.”

“Mmhmm. Or pine needles stuck to your ass?” I’m warming to this game the same way my flesh is being warmed by his hands.

“For sure pine needles stuck to my ass. Or poison ivy.”

“Sap on my tits.” Is that me moaning or has my hearing gone sex-crazed, too?

My head lolls lazily as Davis’s hands roam around my body, hidden inside the top of my dress.

“You know…” he begins to say. “This is fun and all but we might be more comfortable somewhere else.”

My gaze shifts to the room adjacent to the kitchen. “Like the living room?”

“Or the bedroom? Not to be forward.”

“None taken.” I hasten. “Let’s go.”

I’m not expecting it when he reaches beneath me and lifts me off the counter, holding me in his arms as if I weigh nothing and heading towards the front entrance of his house. Davis bounds up the stairs towards the second level and marches us down a long hallway to a double set of doors.

He shoves one open with the toe of his foot, quite Caveman like.

Bed unmade, he dumps me in the center of it.

The mattress dips beneath our weight; the sheets rustle as we get settled.

Davis moans when his back hits the mattress, joining me.