Page 162 of The Snowball Effect

Somehow, Regan had done this to her. She’d figured out how to slip into Emma’s life and infiltrate all of her privacy settings.

Pressing herself back against the wall in a way that was reminiscent of her response to their first kiss, Emma shook her head. “Hence, the babysitting.”

“You wanted little cockblocks around so that we didn’t tear each other’s clothing off,” Regan surmised in the most Regan way possible.

Emma chuckled, unable to deny, “Yeah. Exactly.”

Regan hummed quietly under her breath. “Okay, well, why don’t we both just agree that we won’t do anything – when it comes to sex – without checking in with each other about it,in-depth, first? You know, like, we can both keep each other in check. Make sure we’re only doing what we think we’re ready for?”

She took another step closer, leaving the distance between them only inches, as she clasped her hands behind her back and tilted her head up at Emma.

“I don’t want to rush into anything with you. I just want to keep doing what we’re doing,” Regan’s tone was so earnest, so open, and the sigh it elicited from Emma trembled out of her.

“I do, too,” she agreed in a whisper. “We just… we have to be smart about it. We share the apartment and Sutton, and I still need us to make sure those things don’t implode.”

“Totally agreed,” Regan promised, digging her teeth into her bottom lip as she rocked forward on her toes, pushing even closer… closer into Emma.

Their bodies brushed ever so slightly, Regan’s chest pushing against Emma’s, and Emma dropped her head heavily back against the wall.

“Regan,” she breathed in warning or encouragement or… she didn’t even know anymore.

“My hands are behind my back,” Regan murmured back, her breath washing over Emma’s neck, and the sensation made her shiver. “I’m not touching you. I’m not even going to ask if you want to sit on the couch, lest anything get too hot and heavy.”

There it was. ThattoneRegan had, that made Emma so wet, so quickly.

“But haven’t you ever made out while you were babysitting, before? Isn’t that, like, a classic move?” Regan asked, remaining in that exact position. Brushing her bodyjust soagainst Emma’s, just enough to feel teasingly close, but not leaning in and giving her anything more. Anything substantial.

That unstoppable heat slid through her, and she shook her head as she grit out, “Nope. I believe that’s the classic move for whatnotto do when you’re babysitting, actually.”

“Mm,” Regan hummed, flicking her tongue out and licking her insanely full lips. “Right. Guess that’s why I never got the job.”

“Regan,” she breathed again, unsure of what her tone conveyed other than a needy whine.

Somehow, Emma felt okay with that.

“I’m not going to kiss you. Iwantto kiss you,” Regan husked out. “Because I’ve been unable to think about anything other than you since I woke up this morning. But if you want to kiss me, then I need to know it’s what you really want. Because I don’t want to have a repeat of last night, if you’re going to try to put distance between us, after. I–”

Emma couldn’t help it. Every breath that Regan exhaled, every word she spoke, washed over Emma and made this need inside of her grow higher and hotter.

It was fine, she assured herself, as she leaned down and captured Regan’s perfect mouth with her own.

They weren’t even on the couch, true to Regan’s word. How caught up could they get if they didn’t settle into a bed or a couch or even a chair?

Very.

They could getverycaught up in one another.

Emma had made no such promise to keep her hands to herself, and she hadn’t even registered when she’d moved them down to land on Regan’s hips. She didn’t recall any consciousthought to work them under Regan’s t-shirt to feel her soft, warm skin.

She definitely didn’t remember making the decision to slide her hands down even further so that she could cup Regan’s ass in her palms. She didn’t remember the decision to do so, but she’d done it.

And it felt sogood. Regan’s firm butt under her hands, as Regan writhed against her. Emma was still pressed solidly against the wall – leaning, really, as Regan leaned her entire body into Emma’s.

Regan’s hands hadn’t remained behind her back, but Emma couldn’t fault her for it. Not when she’d been the first one to touch, and definitely not when it felt so fuckinggoodto feel Regan’s hands on her.

Her deft, nimble fingers that had jerked Emma’s shirt out of her slacks – she was still wearing the same clothing she’d worn to work – and slid up Emma’s sides, before scratching to her back. Unsurprisingly, Regan’s hands never stayed in one place for too long.

Neither did her mouth. Her tongue moved actively and insistently against Emma’s, seeming to want to explore every part of Emma’s mouth. She traced over Emma’s teeth, the seam of her lips, the tip of her tongue. She worked those impeccably plush lips over Emma’s bottom one, sucking it between her own.

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