Page 42 of More Than Words

As his lips touched mine, all rational thought flew out the window and I opened for him, matching the frantic desperation of his tongue with my own. My lungs burned while our lips and tongues and teeth collided, the world dimmed by the pounding of my pulse.

Adrian’s palm slipped beneath the back of my hair, gripping the strands tightly while he tilted my head backward, his mouth slanting over mine in the same possessive manner he’d held my hips to the bed with not so long ago when we were in Maine.

It seemed the time for talking—although it more closely resembled arguing when Adrian was involved—was over.

ADRIAN

Boston

“Fuck,” I groaned as Isobel yanked on my hair, gasping into my mouth when we briefly pulled apart, diving right back in until my lungs burned from a lack of oxygen.

My lips ached with the ferocity of our kisses, but I was too far gone to stop. I’d wanted this for weeks and I was greedily taking in every nuance of what it felt like to be with Isobel like this.

I should’ve anticipated her being passionate, her spark being one of the qualities I admired about her, but I hadn’t expected her to be quite this desperate, this passionate, this borderline feral as she pulled my hair and bit my lips in between frantic kisses.

It only made me want to touch her more, kiss her more, strip her bare and lick every inch of her body until she convulsed against my tongue.

Her words may have showed her intense displeasure at working together, but her body felt something different toward me. She was hungry and insatiable, and I wanted to possess her—both her body and her mind.

“Wait,” I panted, pulling away. My heart hammered, and my cock throbbed against the chokehold of my zipper.

“No,” she snarled, pulling me back, biting my lower lip and wrapping her calf around the back of mine, urging me forward. For someone who had informed me multiple times she wasn’t sleeping with me, things appeared to be heading in that direction.

“Is,” I panted, trying to sit up, but she followed me, her other arm wrapping tightly around my neck, her lips tracing the edge of my jaw and nipping at my skin while she tried to pull my mouth back down to hers.

“No, don’t stop. Just kiss me,” she whispered against my cheek. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this. Let’s just pretend we like each other.”

That was the problem. I wasn’t pretending to like her. I did like her. Which was problematic because I didn’t know how to stop being an ass around her either. That was the drawback of acting like someone who you weren’t for so long. Eventually, you forgot where you ended, and the faux persona began.

“Isobel,” I coaxed before I reached back and captured her wrists, bringing them around to hold in front of my chest. “I’m not saying we can’t keep going, but I want to talk to you first.”

Her bright eyes scanned my face, her cheeks flushed and her hair chaotic as it battled to escape her messy bun. I was sure she’d be embarrassed to see her reflection in the mirror right now, but to me, she’d never looked more alluring.

“What do you want to talk about right now?” she asked, her voice tense and her eyes guarded.

Deciding not to keep beating around the bush, I laid my cards on the table. “I like you.”

Her eyes widened, and a surprised laugh escaped her lips. “We’ll, I’d hope you like me, seeing as your tongue was just studying the contours of my mouth.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” I shook my head, trying to come up with a way to formulate my thoughts in a way that she’d listen to. “I like who you are, not just your body, or how you kiss me like my mouth holds the secrets of the universe.”

Her eyes rolled at my last comment, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.

“I like how you make me feel. I like your sense of humor. I like how you call me out when I say something I shouldn’t. I like how you’re finally starting to see me, even though you hold me at arm’s length. I like you.”

“Oh.”

I wasn’t expecting some grand declaration of her feelings, but when her expression sobered, and she continued to stare at my face with a deep crease pinched between her eyebrows, I worried I might’ve confessed too much.

“Why are you telling me this right now?”

It was a valid question, but we’d already blurred the lines between us once. I wanted her to know that this wasn’t happening only because I found her attractive. I needed her to know that I was developing genuine feelings for her.

“Because I want you to know that if we do this, if things become physical again, I want more.”

“I…”

She looked away, but I cupped her cheek, gently urging her face back to mine. “That means you’ll need to talk to me. Try to get to know the real me. The me you think is an anomaly.”

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