Page 35 of A Little Crush (The Little Things #6)
“So you’re saying I haven’t put you through shit?” I counter, ignoring the raging storm around us as I inch closer. “You said so yourself. It was sloppy, and you deserve a hell of a lot more than a drunken kiss as your first.”
She wipes the rain from her forehead with the back of her hand, though more droplets replace them in an instant. “So what’s your solution?” she asks. “Obviously, the apology didn’t get you anywhere.”
“Give me a redo.”
Her brows dip. “What?”
“Give me a redo,” I repeat. “If you’ve waited this long for the perfect first kiss, let me give it another try.
” I move closer, not even giving a shit that we’re both soaked from head to toe.
Not giving a shit that I’m crossing a line I have no right to cross.
Not giving a shit that the odds of this fixing anything are slim to none.
But even then, I can’t convince myself to stop.
Because I can’t do it again. Can’t let her waste another ten years building walls and convincing herself that she deserves anything less than being tasted and savored and appreciated like a fine fucking wine.
“Let me give you the first kiss you deserved before I went and fucked it up.”
With a shaky breath, she parts her lips, and I raise my hands, cupping her cheeks and slipping my fingers along the back of her head before slowly descending.
She lifts her chin and waits. Not pushing me away.
Not telling me to stop. Instead, her eyelids flutter, her innocence driving me forward and making me feel like I’ve lost my damn mind.
I press my mouth to hers, softly framing her bottom lip with mine before lifting her head another inch and tilting my own for better access.
She’s soft. Supple. Fucking perfect. Forcing myself to make this the best damn kiss she’ll ever have, I skate my mouth along her bottom lip again, using the lightest suction before dipping my tongue along the plump flesh.
The taste of fresh rain mixes with our kiss.
It slips between our parted lips as I drag my thumb along her wet cheeks, committing her taste to memory.
Perfect. Fucking perfect.
Reaching up, she grabs onto my wrist and opens her mouth.
Barely. Hell, the movement is so subtle, I would've missed it if I wasn’t so wrapped up in all things Rory that I’m pretty sure I could get struck by lightning right here, right now, and I’d die a happy man.
I kiss her harder, deepening the kiss and invading her sweet little mouth so I can taste her more fully.
Her breath hitches at the intrusion before she meets me halfway, dragging the tip of her tongue against mine.
Cautiously. Carefully. The subtle touch shoots straight to my cock and steals the oxygen from my lungs.
I knew she’d taste incredible. I knew her innocence would be a turn on, but this?
This is more than I bargained for, and more than my self-control can handle.
Fucking perfect. The same thought filters through my mind, and I doubt it’ll be the last time.
My fingers dig into the back of her scalp with the slightest pressure before I force my hands to relax and tear my mouth from hers.
The things I could do to her. The things I could show her.
Teach her. My jaw locks as I try to get ahold of myself, but it’s hard, and I mean that literally.
If I don’t stop now, I’ll ask her if I can come inside—also in the literal sense.
My dick pulses at the possibility, and I press my forehead to hers, willing myself to calm the hell down.
Get a grip, asshole!
“Any better than last night?” I ask.
Her lips curve in a shy smile as she peeks up at me, the rain clinging to her lashes. “I mean, I kind of liked the whole boob grab thing you had going, but?—”
“Don’t tempt me,” I growl.
“Why?” Her voice is breathy and quiet and hot as hell. “Are you tempted?”
The woman has no clue.
She has no clue about a lot of things. She’s young and innocent and works for me and is a family friend, and if I screw this up, her dad will never forgive me.
Neither will her brother or her mom or my mom or…
anyone. My eyes trail to the camera attached to the door.
Did Henry see this? Did Mia? It’s cloudy and pouring rain and we’re far from the lens, but is it enough?
What the hell am I doing?
I’m a divorced single father who travels for work.
She’s an incredible, recently graduated woman with her entire life ahead of her.
No baggage. No hang ups. She deserves more than being caught up with a guy like me.
And that’s if I can commit in the first place.
I need to think this through. She needs to think this through.
Slow the hell down.
“You should…” My throat constricts, but I force the words out anyway. “You should go inside. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
Something hits her eyes as the rain slides down her face, but she doesn’t open up. Doesn’t talk to me the way she used to. The way a small part of me still wants her to, even if I’d never admit it out loud. It’ll only mess things up even more.
“Of course not,” she murmurs, licking the moisture from her swollen bottom lip.
“That kiss was, uh, was definitely a memorable one, so…I guess your job here is done.” Turning toward the door, she walks slowly up the steps, and I can’t help but notice the way her clothes cling to her skin, leaving little to the imagination.
I fist my hands at my sides to keep from chasing after her and pushing her tight little body against the door, but fuck, do I want to.
When she peeks over her shoulder at me at the last moment, the last of my restraint threatens to snap, but instead of inviting me inside, she says, “And don’t worry.
I’ll, uh, I’ll delete the footage. My parents never check the camera anyway unless something weird happens. See you later, Jax.”
Like a punch to the gut, I take the hit and keep my expression in check. “See you later, Squeaks.”
She doesn’t hear me. The sound of water hitting the pavement drowns me out. If only it had the power to quiet my racing thoughts, too.