Page 56 of She Was Made for Me

I shrug, because really, what’s the difference?

She closes the gap between us. “Then I will.”

And just like that, her mouth is on mine. Her sweet vanilla smell swamps my senses, the soft brush of her lips enough to make me howl, and when her hand touches my cheek, the world around me disappears. I’m lost to the taste of her, the feel of her. To the way the blood in my body rushes south, stiffening my cock and making my head spin.

The sound of a siren wailing nearby pulls me back to reality, and I stumble away from her, my pulse thundering.

“We can’t, Violet.” My voice is a desperate rasp I’ve never heard before, but I’m barely holding on. I reach for the one thing I know a good guy would say in this position. “You’ve been drinking.”

She huffs in irritation. “I’ve had half a glass of wine. I’m hardly drunk, Kyle.” She stares at my mouth, her chest rising and falling with her quick breaths. “I know what I want, and I’m tired of being treated like a child.” She squares her shoulders, lifting her dark gaze to mine. “I’m a grown woman.” Her voice becomes breathy, her eyes beg me. “Please treat me like a woman.”

I take a step closer, intending to put a stop to this, but I can’t. I don’t know if it’s the romantic feeling of this garden, the secrecy of the darkness, or that I’m a very weak man, but I kiss her again.

Properly this time.

21

Violet

Ihave never been kissed before this moment. I thought I had, but I was so, so wrong.

Kyle’s mouth slants over mine, his tongue parting my lips. When it sweeps into my mouth, heat rushes my bloodstream, making my legs shake, my thighs squeeze together with need.

I wind my arms around his neck and pull him into me, stumbling back until I’m pressed against the brick wall. A low groan comes from deep in his throat as my hands thread into his hair. His fist goes to my ponytail, tugging, and my breath stutters against his. No man has ever done that before and I fucking love it.

I feel the heat of him through his shirt—a black tee fitting him perfectly, clinging in all the right places, the very bottom of his tattoo peeking out on his bicep. I’m not the only one who thinks he looks hot as hell tonight. I noticed several women checking him out inside, and hated every second of it. I wanted to stake my territory, pull him away from the crowd and steal all his attention for myself.

Mission accomplished. I can’t believe he’s kissing me—he’slettinghimself kiss me—like this. Like a man who thinks this is his last night to live. A man whose time is running out.

I drop my hands to his ass, tugging him against me. A hard ridge in his jeans presses between my legs and I moan, rubbing myself on him shamelessly, desperate for friction. He’s so hard for me, I want to weep.

His kiss deepens, long strokes of his tongue over mine, a frantic clash of teeth and breath as he grinds his cock against me, one hand tugging on my hair, the other propping himself against the wall above me. I can’t breathe and I’m okay with it. I’d be happy to die like this.

Thankfully Kyle regains some control and lifts his mouth from mine. I gasp in a breath as his lips move along my jaw, down my neck, below my ear. His beard is a rough scrape on my collarbone, sending goosebumps scattering across my skin, making all the nerve endings fire in my body.

“I’ve wanted this since the day we met,” I pant, quivering as his lips make a trail to my shoulder.

He gives a dark chuckle against my skin. “You’re not the only one.”

I take his face in my hands, forcing his gaze to mine. I hope he can see just how okay I am with this—morethan okay. My panties are soaked through, I’m so wet and ready for him. It’s dark in this garden. We’re alone. Would it be insane for him to push my skirt up, unzip his jeans, and fuck me right here? I need it more than I need air right now.

As if reading my thoughts, his mouth curls into a dirty grin. His hand slides down, hooking my thigh over his hip, giving him better access.

“Ohhh,” I moan, grinding against the hardness behind his fly, dizzy with need. Each thrust of his hips brings me closer, my mouth finding his neck and sucking on the soft skin below his beard. His woodsy, earthy smell fills my nostrils as I work myself against him, hands gripping his back, so high I never want to come down.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart.” Kyle’s voice is a rough growl in my ear. “Get off on me.”

Something about his command pushes me to the edge. “Oh God, I think I’m going to—”

Light floods the garden and Kyle lurches back. I tug my skirt into place, my cheeks hot as I try to make sense of what’s happening. I hadn’t realized the music had stopped; people stream out of the theater with drinks in their hands, talking excitedly. The band must have finished their set.

My gaze darts to Kyle, my heart galloping as I try to catch my breath. He discreetly adjusts his crotch, his posture awkward, refusing to meet my gaze. Luckily no one seems to have noticed what we’d been doing, but I don’t really care. What I care about is how Kyle won’t look at me. The dark flush of red on his cheeks, the way he’s hanging his head in shame.

Come back to me,I want to whisper to him. I want to pull him close again and press my face into his chest, rub a hand over his back to tell him we haven’t done anything wrong. And I could. We don’t know anyone here. But everything in Kyle’s body language tells me not to go near him.

I hover by the brick wall, uncertain. I don’t want to push him, but I can’t leave things there. He finally admitted how much he wants me. He had me on the brink of orgasm, for fuck’s sake. I can’t just smile and go back in to watch the band like nothing happened.

I force out a heavy breath, pushing away from the wall. The garden feels suffocating and I need space to think.

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