Page 6 of Obligation

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Bradley smiled, showing off twin dimples. How had she missed those before?

“What about you? Where are you from?” he asked, tugging her another step closer.

“I’m a born and bred California girl.”

“Hmmm.”

That one sound sent a tremor of delight through her, and her eyes closed of their own volition. Thankfully, the porch was mostly dark. Maybe he didn’t see her swooning like a pre-teen with her first crush.

“Do you live on campus?” she asked, though she had no idea why.

“Why?” He smirked. “Are you trying to get me to invite you back to my place?”

“What?” She jerked back. “No, of course not. I was just—”

He laughed. “Easy, Carissa. I’m only teasing.”

God, the way he said her name… so smooth yet packed with promise. She took a deep breath, but she was positive nothing would calm her racing heart or cool her fiery hot flesh. She’d come outside to cool down and get some air, but all she’d managed to do was make herself hotter.

“I live off-campus with a few other guys,” he said.

“I live on campus with my best friend. Dory Hall.”

“Good to know.” His tone was full of amusement, though she couldn’t help but feel like he was actually filing away all this information about her.

She really needed to shut up before she said something she might regret. “Are you looking for a third hand or can I have mine back?” She could barely throw his words back at him without giggling.

“I don’t know. If I let go, are you finally going to make your move and kiss me?”

Her ears rang, and her heart decided to suddenly stop before taking off like a spooked racehorse. “Am I allowed to?” she asked, needing a moment to compose herself. “You’re not going to tell me no like you have everyone else?”

“Do I look like I’m stupid?”

“I don’t know,” she said, pretending to seriously contemplate his question. “It is dark out here, so I can’t really see you all that well.”

“Alright, Little Miss Smartass,” he said with a laugh, “my offer expires in exactly three seconds.”

“Wait. Hold on. I need proof.” She fumbled to get her cell phone out of her black, crossbody purse. She opened the camera, turned it to selfie mode, then held it out as far as her arm would extend.

Carissa closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his cheek. She sliced a look at her phone and snapped the picture. As soon as she did, he guided her arm down and around to rest on his back, keeping his hand over hers as if he were worried she’d pull away.

He slipped his free hand along the side of her neck and grazed his lips over hers. His movements were graceful and perfectly timed so that she didn’t have an opportunity to protest—not that she would have—but his every move, despite being confident and self-assured, was done in a way that let her know she was still in charge, that she could stop him if she wanted to.

But she didn’t want to.

Eliminating what little distance remained between them, their bodies pressed firmly together, she parted her lips on a sigh and welcomed his kiss. His groan was soft and quick, and then his tongue teased hers before he dipped inside to taste her. But he didn’t just taste her—he devoured her, his mouth hungry and insistent against hers. Yet, he still maintained control, never once going too far or too fast.

Her mind spun, and she operated on pure instinct, her hormones guiding her actions. The rational, logical part of her brain screamed at her to stop, to back away, to tell him she had a boyfriend. But every other inch of her body had taken on a mind of its own, and she was powerless to do anything but melt into his arms, to drown in his kiss.

He nipped at her bottom lip, and she damn near pouted when he broke the kiss. Her breaths came in sharp, short bursts, and her lips tingled. The taste of him was ingrained on her tongue, and she craved more. She unintentionally swayed forward.

“The next one is going to cost you,” he said, his voice husky.

“Only prostitutes charge for stuff like that, and you said you weren’t a prostitute.”

“Oh, I’m not asking for money.” His previously icy eyes were now darker, warmer. Lustful.

“Trading favors more your style?” She grinned and licked her lips.