Page 19 of Stick Work

“Hey Taylor, no. Stop. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He steps closer, his thumb gently lifting my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You can’t help but be who you are.”

I throw my hands up, my pulse racing as his closeness messes with my head. “Flaws and all?”

“Flaws and all,” he agrees, his voice husky as he takes another step closer. I lift my face to his, the tension between us so thick I can taste it. I’m about to speak, say something, anything, but then, just like that, his lips are on mine.

Elias Ariti is kissing me.

OMG, Elias Ariti is kissing me.

Not treating you like a kid sister now, is he, Taylor?

Nope, no he’s not and I have to push him away. I need to push him away. We can’t be doing this no matter how much I want this…and more.

Then why the heck aren’t you pushing him away, girlfriend?

6

Elias

What the hell am I doing?

The thought whispers through my mind, but it’s a fleeting shadow against the fire roaring inside me. I should stop—God knows I should—but I can’t. Not when her lips are parting for me, soft and inviting, like she’s been waiting for this as long as I have. A low, guttural moan escapes me as I slide my tongue into the warmth of her mouth, tasting her in a way I’ve only dreamed of.

Her hands find their way around my body, fingers spreading across my back in a slow, deliberate exploration. My muscles clench under her touch, restraint a thing of the past. She slides her hands higher, gripping my shoulders, testing the thickness of my muscles with her fingertips before going higher to mess with my hair.

“Taylor,” I murmur against her lips, testing the sound of her name on my tongue, and wondering if it would come out huskier if we were between the sheets. I pull her closer and her small frame melts as I practically lift her off the floor, holding her impossibly tighter against my aching body.

The room spins, or maybe it’s me, drunk on the feel of her. My hands glide lower, following the curve of her waist, anchoring on the small of her back just above that tantalizing dip of her hips. A warning bell dings faintly in the back of my mind, a last-ditch effort from the voice of reason. Not too far, it cautions. But my body doesn’t seem to care.

A sharp noise from outside—a car backfiring maybe—snaps through the haze, and I force myself to pull back, gasping as if I’ve surfaced from drowning. Her lips are swollen from my kiss, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths that mirror my own. She looks up at me through fluttering lashes, her half-lidded eyes filled with a mix of wonder and uncertainty that punches the air from my lungs.

I brush the backs of my fingers along her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin. “Hey,” I whisper, my voice rough with want.

“What... what was that for?” Her voice is breathless, shaky, and it’s all I can do not to crush her against me again.

I steal a glance at my door, suddenly feeling like a teenager again, about to get caught with Suzanne in my room. But this isn’t some teenage crush in my arms. This is Taylor. My best friend’s younger sister.

Off limits.

“I thought I saw Grandma in the hall,” I lie, my voice weak even to my own ears. As I struggle to pull myself together, my tongue sweeps over my bottom lip, wanting another taste of her.

She frowns slightly, her head tilting toward the door. “I didn’t see anyone.”

Before she can look, I gently grip her chin, guiding her focus back to me. “She’s gone now.”

Her eyes search mine, lingering for a moment, before she nods. “Oh... okay.”

Playing it light, I smirk. “I guess at some point, we have to act like we’re a real couple, right? Thought now was as good a time as any.” My eyes flick toward the door again, even though I know Grandma isn’t there.

Taylor tilts her head, her laughter low and husky, a sound that does dangerous things to me. “Why are you acting like you’re about to get caught with Suzanne in your room?” She laughs, but it’s deep, and full of arousal.

Arousal…

Jesus, that means she liked my kiss. Fuck, I shouldn’t feel so goddamn happy about that.

I force a laugh. “It’s funny. I was just thinking the same thing.”

Her eyebrow quirks, her smile turning sly. “You were thinking about Suzanne while kissing me?” she challenges. “Nice, Elias.” I’m about to tell her no, that I haven’t thought about another girl since meeting her, but stop when she pokes my chest, and maybe it’s better she doesn’t know that. “No need to be nervous about getting caught. We’re allowed to kiss. Grandma expects it.”