Page 50 of Lotus

The blood rushes south, and my nether regions begin to swell and stiffen in response.

I hope she doesn’t notice.

This can’t be weird.

Before I can open my eyes, I feel her lips touch mine. It’s feather-light, like the mildest breeze in early springtime, or the way a flower petal feels pressed between my fingertips. Sydney’s hair begins to curtain us, smelling of honey and floral blooms, as she leans in further, deepening contact.

My mouth parts on instinct, and when it does, her tongue gently sweeps inside. I’m taken aback by the sensation, by the profound physical effect I feel when her tongue touches mine. It’s enough to pull a groan from the back of my throat as my hands cling to the curves of her body. Impulse overtakes me, and my tongue begins to engage with hers, stroking and caressing, as if I’ve done it a thousand times before.

Sydney’s hands find my neck, her grip on me tightening as the seconds tick by. Her pelvis is flush against mine, and surely she feels the effect she’s having on me. I can’t help but wonder if she feels it, too, as satisfying sounds escape her and she becomes more deliberate, bolder, with her ministrations.

This doesn’t feel like an act or a lesson. This feels primal; animalistic.

Meant to be.

When she pulls back for air, I hardly let her take a breath. My right hand curves around to her back and glides up her spine, landing at the nape of her neck and tangling in her hair. I pull her to me once more, our mouths crashing together with fierce potency, my body ablaze. Our tongues continue to mingle and twine as Sydney fists the collar of my shirt, our chests melded together. More squeaks, more hands, more thrusts, more moans.

More, more, more.

She nicks my bottom lip between her teeth, and my hips jerk up, seeking friction.

“Oliver…” Sydney pulls back again, just enough to whisper my name against my lips. We are breathing heavily, the weight of the moment nearly tangible. “We should stop now.”

I almost don’t hear her. I’m inclined to taste her further, deeper,entirely. But the request finally registers, trickling into my ears, overriding my racing heart. “Yes,” I croak out, and it sounds more like a pained gasp. “All right.”

Nothing inside me wants to stop, but I loosen my hold around her neck, until my hand slides down her back and rests on my knee.

Our eyes meet, and I can see the amorous glaze shining back at me, reflecting my own.

Sydney’s fingers trail down my chest, then her forehead falls against mine. “Damn, Oliver.” A smile curves her swollen lips, puckered and pink. “You’re a natural.”

“I am?”

“Uh, yeah. You sure you haven’t done that before?” she teases, scrunching up her button nose. Her eyes are now twinkling, replacing the lust.

Had I only imagined it?

I drop my left hand from her waist because I fear if I don’t let go, I never will. “I wasn’t aware it could feel like that.”

“What did it feel like to you?”

My mind is still spinning, my thoughts dizzy and blurred. I’ve never felt anything like that before, so I have little to compare it to, but I try to explain it the best I can. “Like every star in the galaxy tumbled to Earth and crawled beneath my skin.”

A resounding silence settles between us, and I wonder if I’ve misspoken.

But then Sydney’s smile broadens further, lighting up her face like a radiant moonbeam—as if she plucked those stars from my lips and kept them for herself. She leans into me, placing one last kiss to my forehead before removing herself from my lap.

I miss her warmth like I missed sunshine.

Sydney settles beside me on the sofa and tucks my trembling hand between both of her palms. She rests her cheek against my shoulder and whispers, “Those are the best kind.”

T H I R T E E N

IFUCKED UP.

I shouldn’t have kissed him.

Almost forty-eight hours have passed since I straddled my childhood best friend on my living room sofa, and I still remember every wanton second of it.

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