Page 66 of False Start

Heheardme.

Whatever steadiness he’d given me with that kiss was obliterated, and I felt my heartbeat in my throat as he sucked the lobe of my ear between his teeth.

“I also know you left yourself… unsatisfied,” he rasped.

My cheeks flamed — not from embarrassment, but from arousal at the thought of his admission. A small part of me wondered if I should be appalled, if I should feel angry or violated.

But I didn’t. Not even a little bit.

Intrigue filled me, instead.

“Don’t worry,” he added with another nip of my earlobe. “I can help with that.”

My next breath shook out of me, chills racing all the way down to my toes.

I angled my chin up toward him, our mouths centimeters apart, my heart beating out of my chest. When our eyes met, his nostrils flared, his fingertips tightening where they held my hip.

I wanted to know more.

I wanted him to tell me exactly what he’d heard, what he’d seen…

What he’d do next.

His throat bobbed, hand sweeping across my chin before he gently wrapped it around the back of my neck. When he wet his lips, lightning struck me to my core as if his tongue had been between my thighs, instead.

But before either of us could say another word, we were practically tackled from behind, Leo Hernandez popping up between us and hooking his arms around both our necks.

“Alright, you lovebirds. Save the snogging for the hotel room and come party with your friends.”

“What, are you English now?” Mary asked, offering me an apologetic smile as she shook her head at her boyfriend.

I hoped like hell I had a convincing, normal smile on my face as Kyle reluctantly put distance between us, the smile on his face seemingly just as strained. I hoped no one could see the way my legs trembled with every step we took toward the bar.

Because inside, I was burning.

And when Kyle slid his arm around me when we rejoined his friends, the smirk on his lips told me he knew it.

Kyle

I don’t know what I expected from Madelyn at the rehearsal dinner, but it was far from what I got.

Ever since we’d reconnected, she’d had a guard up. She’d been standoffish, quick to shut me down whenever I tried to get her to loosen up and have some fun. She’d fought me on nearly everything, it’d seemed.

But tonight, she was flowing like a river — free and beautiful, shaping the earth to curve around her and pulling everything and everyone into her current.

I watched her talk to my friends at the bar, listened to her laugh with the guys when we sat down at the table and they told her stories of our time in college.

I leaned in when she shared stories of her own, like how she’d ended up in a karaoke battle with a local radio station DJ one night when she was out drinking with her friends.

I tried to focus on the guys when she was on the dance floor with the girls, tried and failed not to watch her too long over the rim of my glass as she wound her hips and rolled her body in time with the beat.

She fit in like she’d always been a part of our group, like she’d spent the last five years with us, too.

It put a dull pain in my chest, one I couldn’t decide if I liked or not.

Maybe it was the nap she had. Maybe it was being states away from her responsibilities.

Maybe it was being around me again.