Page 51 of Making It Up

From the deer blind to having Judy have Jake call David to just freaking kissing him, I am feeling so damned smart right now.

Then David lifts his hands, slides them into my hair, turns me and presses me against the side of the truck, and…brilliant.

All of this is brilliant.

I am simply brilliant.

It’s not like I’m some kind of kissing expert, but I’ve written a lot of great kisses. Hot kisses. Sexy kisses. Kisses that lead to a lot more.

But when I kiss David Bennett, I’m still shocked that I actually feel tingles explode in my belly and shoot down through my pelvis and then all the way to my toes.

And that’s with me ambushing him.

Imagine if he kissed me with all the intention of turning me on and taking it further.

Then I start to pull back and his big hand cups the back of my head, draws me in, and he says against my mouth, “You started this,” then he tips his head slightly to the side and meets my lips again with his.

This time the tingles turn into full-blown fireworks.

His stubble abrades my skin, his lips demand mine open, his tongue runs over my lower lip before stroking into my mouth. He doesn’t lean into me, but I have the definite feel of being caged in, held exactly where he wants me. Claimed.

There’s no mistaking that he has taken over and answered my challenge.

If my kiss is tentative and let’s-see-what-happens, his is very definitive and oh-girl-I’m-not-sure-you’re-ready.

I’m not sure I’m ready either.

But I know that I don’t care.

Just kissing him has the edge of excitement to it that I am craving.

I don’t care if I’m out of my depth, it feels like falling without a parachute combined with the assuredness that the landing will still be soft.

That is what David does for me. Even if what we’re embarking on feels new and a little scary, I know that he’ll make sure I’m safe.

It’s exhilarating.

And I definitely want more.

With that in mind, my hands go to his waist, and I thread my fingers through his belt loops, pulling him closer. He closes the inches between us with a groan, now pressing into me.

He moves his hands, so they are braced on the truck on either side of my head, holding himself back slightly, but not letting my mouth go. His lips press, then retreat, press, then retreat. His tongue strokes as if he needs to taste every single inch of my mouth.

I arch closer, willing to let him have whatever he wants.

His hands stay firmly on the truck though, and finally he straightens his elbows, breaking the kiss and staring down at me.

His gaze is hot, his breathing ragged.

“Well?” he asks.

“Well, what?” I ask.

“How did I do? On the book boyfriend scale?”

One of my brows lifts. Book boyfriend? How does he know that term? I laugh lightly. “Very well. Ten out of ten.”

He grins. “Oh damn. Well, I guess we don’t need to keep working on it then.”