Page 39 of Obsession Under the Southern Stars

Then I know I’m kidding myself. He meant it when he said I’m under no obligation. He’s that kind of guy. I don’t owe him anything. If I end up kissing him, it’s because I want to, and thinking there’s any other reason is just fooling myself.

And I do want to kiss him. Very much.

One little kiss. Surely there’s no harm in that?

“Just a kiss?” I whisper.

His gaze drops to my mouth. “Just a kiss.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart.” He swipes his finger over his chest, looking amused.

I press my lips together involuntarily as I think about his lips pressing against mine. “I shouldn’t,” I whisper.

“And I shouldn’t ask.”

We study each other for a moment. Slowly, our lips curve up.

He puts his hands on my shoulders, then turns me and moves me back against the door jamb. “I can’t help myself,” he murmurs.

He moves closer, so we’re almost touching, and looks down as he leans on the doorframe above me.

“This is like the Booktok door frame lean challenge,” I say breathlessly. “Oh my God. It actually works.”

He chuckles and cups my face with his other hand. His fingers are warm on my skin. I can smell his ocean scent. He’s so close to me. I can feel the heat of his body through his shirt. My heart is racing at the sensation of him touching me. Ahhh… I knew this was a bad idea… I shouldn’t have drunk the Champagne. Lust sweeps over me. I want to go to bed with him… I want to strip off our clothes and lie naked together… I want to feel his hands all over my body, on my breasts, between my legs, exploring while he kisses me… The ache, the longing, is so strong it’s overwhelming…

In my head I’m acting like a toddler, running around waving my arms and screaming. But in reality the villa is quiet, and the air is still. It’s almost as if time has stopped, and the world is holding its breath, waiting to see what happens. We’ve turned all the lights out, but the moon is nearly full, and her bright light slants across us, casting us both in silver. We look like a couple of actors from a black-and-white movie—Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh, or Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, acting out a love scene in a romantic movie.

Action, the director says and, slowly, Joel lowers his lips to mine.

I close my eyes. His mouth is warm, dry, and firm. He presses his lips against mine for a few seconds, then moves back an inch. I think he’s waiting to see if I freak out.

When I don’t move, he does it a second time, then lifts his head and waits.

“You want to breathe before you pass out?” he suggests.

I exhale in a rush. “I was going for a static apnea kiss.”

He chuckles. How come my head’s like a carousel that someone’s switched up to max speed, and he’s so in control? He brushes his thumb across my lips, sending a tingle from the nape of my neck all the way down my spine. Feeling a surge of mischief, I catch his thumb between my teeth, close my lips around it, and suck it into my mouth. I wash my tongue over the pad, and Joel’s eyes flare.

With a muttered growl, he removes his thumb, takes my face in both his hands, and crushes his lips to mine.

I gasp, my mouth opening, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue against mine, at the same time pressing his body closer, pinning me against the wall. My hands fly to his chest, and for a moment I’m not sure whether I’m going to push him away or pull him closer. My fingers clutch at his shirt as I fight with myself.

And then heat roars through me as if I’ve stepped into a furnace, and I slide my hands up and around his neck, where they finally sink into his hair.

Joel groans, a guttural growl deep in his throat, making me tremble. He’s kissing me as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the only thing that can stop him from drowning. As if he’s wanted this more than anything else in the world, and he can’t believe he’s finally got it. He sweeps his tongue into my mouth, tastingme, the erotic slide of it against mine making me clench inside and my nipples tighten in my bra.

He slides his arms around me and tightens them, pulling me up close against him. Oh God, I didn’t anticipate this… this fire inside me. He moves his hands up my sides, and for a moment I think he’s going to cup my breasts. He pauses on either side of them, then continues up, stroking under my arms, then moving up to take my wrists and pin them above me.

Lifting his head, he stares into my eyes. We’re both breathing heavily, and I tremble again.

“You have to stop doing that,” he says huskily. Our bodies are pressed together, and I can feel his erection, long and hard where it’s pressed against my mound.

“I can’t help it,” I whisper. I try to move my arms, but he’s holding my wrists tightly. Oh my God. I didn’t expect any of this.

“You need to tell me to stop,” he says. His voice is low and slightly hoarse. He rocks his hips, stroking his erection through my soft flesh. Aaahhh… I’m so turned on, I think I could come just by him doing that…

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