Page 61 of The Longshot

The tension builds between us as I start to think, this is it. That moment, that feeling of anticipation that everyone talks about before a first kiss. I’ll admit, I’ve never been one to understand the big fuss of it all, but now that I’m this close to the one place that I’ve dreamt about being all night long, I don’t just understand. I know.

I finally know.

“What are you waiting for then?” Chelsie toys with the strings of my jumper. “You gonna answer the question, or not?—”

I close my eyes, embrace the moment, and crash my lips into hers before she can mutter another word of that sentence and fuck, it’s euphoric.

At first, it’s slow, but almost instantly, we move in sync. I’ve never had a kiss like this. A kiss that leaves my stomach churning from the inside out.

A kiss that forces my knees to buckle beneath my weight.

A kiss that leaves me aching, begging for more.

More.

I need more.

With her arms by her side I waste no time in grasping onto the fabric of her dress and tugging her that much closer. The action prompts an almost immediate response from Chelsie as she wraps her arms around my neck and intertwines her hands within the base of my hair. I relish in the way her fingertips, thinking to myself: she’s perfect.

So perfect.

How can she get any more perfect?

“Figure out an answer?” Chelsie’s alluring voice snaps me out of it as she murmurs into my ear. “What do they taste like?”

Before I can answer, I can’t help but look down at her, noticing the way droplets of rain glide down her face and highlight the high points of her cheeks. With that visual, I realize the only rational response to her question: "Heaven,” I hum softly. “You taste like heaven.”

Chelsie’s cheeks swell into a smile when our lips fall back as one. I never believed it when people would say that angels walked amongst us, but now I know it to be true. Chelsie is an angel in my grasp, yet here I am with the most hellish of thoughts—thoughts that I can’t stop from magnifying as I grasp onto her face with a heightened sense of passion.

As things start to escalate, I fall victim to the sound of the faint moans that escape her lips, and Christ, it's enough to leave my mind racing as I gravitate towards the nape of her neck and kiss down on her with such an urgency that it’s almost difficult to describe…

Chelsie’s like an itch—one that I’ll never be able to scratch, yet somehow, I’m okay with it. She seems to make everything okay. It’s like she holds the power to turn my deepest annoyances into the greatest of pleasures, and fuck, I’m hooked. Addicted.

“Gary.”

The sound of my name has never been all that enticing to me, but when she says it, suddenly, it becomes a drug.

Say it again, I beg in my mind. Please, say it again.

“Gary.” She complies without even realizing it and I grow even more enthralled. Now, as my lips tread along the sacred territory that is the sweet skin of her collarbone, I can’t seem to let up, lifting her into the air and pinning her back in the process.

“Uh… Gary?”

I can barely hear her by now. All I can hear is the word “heaven”, as it repeatedly falls from my lips, and my hands explore every square inch of her skin.

“Fuck baby,” I groan into her neck. “You’re like heaven to me?—”

“GARY!”

The way she says my name with a sudden sense of urgency forces me to stop, freeze, and jerk my head back as I’m caught completely off guard and stumble backward.

I want to speak, but I can’t… she beats me to it.

“Can you uh—put me down?” she asks, her voice quiet… desperate. “Please?”

I immediately comply with her request, placing her so that she's back down onto the ground before my eyes scan over her flush, almost flustered face…

“Chelsie, I—” My stomach plummets to my feet as I come to terms with the moment, the situation at hand, the fact that shit, I think I’d just taken things too far. “Are you okay?” I immediately start to fret. “Are you?—”

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