Mouth to Mouth (Beach Kingdom 1)

She tilted her head back so Rory could see her duck lips and thunderous frown. “How is this? Are you scared?”

“Ah, baby. I’m terrified.”

Olive smiled and planted a kiss over his heart. The gesture started casual, but they made eye contact while her lips were still pressed to the spot and the atmosphere changed. There was an awareness on Olive’s face that said she heard the wild rapping of that organ against his rib cage. Both of their breathing changed and in an instant, the closeness of their bodies was no longer meant to comfort.

“I’ll go to the birthday party with you,” Olive murmured, shifting her sweet curves against him. “If you want.”

A knot formed in his throat. “You would do that for me?”

She nodded. “Promise.”

Trying to disguise how much that offer humbled him, Rory swallowed hard, reaching over to pick up the drink he’d made and holding it to her lips. “Take a sip. I’m not going to inflict my hang-ups on you. Ever. Understand?” When Olive nodded and did as she was told, watching him silently over the rim of the glass, he was jealous over the cool liquid that met and slid across her tongue, down her throat. Fuck, just watching her take the sip made his balls feel twice their usual weight. If he didn’t kiss her soon, he was going to go mad. She licked her lips after she’d taken her fill, and Rory cinched his hips forward, just enough to inform her of the effect she had. Constantly. Her lids fluttered, her pupils blocking out some of the gray of her irises, and she murmured his name like a prayer.

Rory set the glass down and plowed his hands into her hair, holding fast as he walked her backward toward the staircase. The one that led to his bedroom. Even as a voice in the back of his head reminded him he wasn’t good enough to be Olive’s first time, the gravitational pull between them wasn’t giving him a choice. He needed her. He needed her. But his conscience forced him to offer one more out. One more, before he lost sight of the right thing to do.

“I can bring you home,” he rasped, grazing their lips together. “Just say the word.”

Olive’s breath caught as she scrutinized him, the importance of what could happen once they got upstairs written in her eyes. Probably his, too. “I’m staying.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Olive was ready to get naked before they reached the top of the stairs.

Pretty intrepid for a girl who’d only gone as far as kissing with a member of the opposite sex—and some on-top-of-the-clothes groping once at church camp, but it had been so unskilled and awkward, she’d stricken it from the record. Rory would not be unskilled. One need only to examine the facts to arrive at such a conclusion.

Oh God, did she mentally monologue in essay format when she was turned on? Whatever. It was helping keep her focused. And she wanted to remember every single moment of tonight. So. Facts.

He wasn’t rushed. Hadn’t even kissed her yet, merely walking her into the dark bedroom and breathing against her lips. Breathing, rubbing their mouths together, humming. Stroking her hair and every so often reminding her of the raised flesh behind his fly. This wasn’t a young, inexperienced guy with his orgasm on a hair trigger. He was seducing her even though there was no need. She’d been seduced the morning they’d shared milkshakes.

Rory ran his thumbs in hook patterns behind her ears, massaging the spots she didn’t even know were sensitive. What else did he know about her body she didn’t? When she woke up tomorrow morning, what secrets would she have learned? Excitement raced up and down her arms like spiky pinwheels, clashing with nerves to leave her trembling, breathless.

He made her breathless. This man who carried so much weight on his shoulders. She wanted to take it away from him, distract him from it for as long as possible. Remembering his tortured expression back in the kitchen, the sharp ache in her chest flared to life again. He’d been through so much—and while she still didn’t know the extent of it, she knew a man who lamented letting down his mother to such a degree was good at his core. And Olive could feel the truth of his goodness with every treasuring caress of her skin, every awed glance he sent in her direction. She was going to give herself to this man, wholeheartedly, because staying away was impossible. Painful, even.

Please, please don’t let me regret it.

Don’t let me find out again what it’s like to see him go.

Wanting to forget her remaining reservations about the future, Olive wet her lips, her voice emerging in a smoky croak. “Um, so. Are you planning on kissing me soon?”