Page 3 of Dirty Little Mistake

"I wished you would kiss me," I whispered, averting my gaze as my cheeks heated with embarrassment, and I immediately tried to recover myself. "I mean, I was just?—"

He moved like a storm breaking - one moment the tension hung thick in the air, the next his lips found mine, stealing the end of my sentence.

Time froze, before gravity pulled me into his orbit. His tongue traced the seam of my lips and I parted for him, helpless against the magnetic pull.

Trystan West was kissing me.

Not some gentle, friendly kiss. An aggressive I-want-to-fuck-your-mouth kiss. He devoured me like a starving man, all heat and hunger and desperation, his fingers digging crescents into my hips as he claimed every inch I offered.

I'd dreamed about this moment since I was twelve years old, and it was more than I could have ever imagined.

My hands curled into his black tee, pulling him to me, and his hips pinned me tight against the railing as one hand curled around my hip and the other into my hair. He jerked my head back, ripping my mouth from his. His ragged breath fanned across my face.

"Is that what you wished for?" His lips brush mine, teasing and taunting me for more.

"Yes," I breathed.

His head dipped to my ear, and time seemed to slow. Each exhale brushed the sensitive skin beneath my ear, sending shivers cascading down my spine. “Stay with me tonight.”

Four words, spoken so softly they were barely more than vibrations against my skin, but they ignited something molten in my core. The invitation hung in the air between us, heavy with six years of stolen glances and midnight dreams. His lips traced the shell of my ear, not quite a kiss, more a promise of what could follow. The railing at my back was the only thing keeping me upright as desire coursed through me like wildfire, settling between my thighs.

I knew what he was asking. He was asking for one night in his bed, but for the briefest moment, I pretended that it was more, that he was actually into me for more than that. But if all I could have was one night. I'd take it.

His lips grazed my jaw before he leaned back, his gaze locking on mine.

"Yes." I nodded.

He dropped his arms, releasing me. "Are you sure?"

I'd never been more sure about anything in my life.

I nodded again.

His fingers threaded through mine, calloused fingertips brushing my inner wrist where my pulse raced beneath paper-thin skin. Each backward step was an invitation, drawing me deeper into his orbit. The French doors whispered shut behind us, and darkness swallowed everything except the heat of his skin against mine and the sound of our uneven breathing. Without sight, every sensation intensified - his thumb tracing patterns on my palm, the faint scent of his cologne that always clung to his clothes, the electric awareness of his body so close to mine.

"Trystan," I breathed, feeling around for him. He slid his hands around me from behind, grabbing the hem of my shirt and easing it over my head. I wasn't wearing a bra or panties, only that shirt and a pair of boxers.

Trystan's fingers splayed across my bare stomach, his touch sending electricity through my skin. "I don't do girlfriends."

"I know." I swallowed hard. I might regret this in the morning, but right now, none of it mattered.

His lips brushed against my shoulder, leaving a trail of heat. "Are you on birth control?" A shiver ran down my spine, my eyes fluttering closed at his touch.

"No." The warmth of his breath ghosted across my skin.

"Have you ever had sex before?"

My chest constricted, heart hammering against my ribs. "No." I dropped my gaze to the floor. Silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"You're a virgin?"

"Yes."

An awkward silence filled the room for so long that my heart started to pound as the world narrowed to pinpoints of sensation - the electric current racing beneath my skin, the way my fingers trembled against the railing, the sudden dryness of my throat as his gaze locked with mine. Each inhale felt like breathing underwater.

"Do you have a condom?" It was the only thing I could think of asking to break the silence.

"No." He sighed, sliding his hand into mine and tugging me toward the bed. "We don't need one."

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