Page 61 of Red Zone
Every thought disappears.
And when his hand grazes under my bra, fingers spreading along my ribs, I moan and pull him down again.
It’s happening. And neither of us wants to stop.
18
CARTER
Lyla’s mouth is warm under mine, her hands pulling me closer as we melt into the couch. Every time she shifts, her hips grind against me, and it’s absolute torture. Good torture. The kind that makes you forget about every single reason this is supposed to be a bad idea.
All other thoughts on why this probably isn’t the best idea are the last thing on my mind. I’m too focused on her.
On the heat of her skin under my hands. On the soft little gasps she makes when I suck on her neck.
She arches into me, and I groan against her collarbone. I’m so hard it physically hurts.
She leans up, breathless, lips swollen from kissing. “Do you want to…go to my room?”
I blink.
Then grin.
“I’d love to,” I say, dragging my palm down her side. “But you might have to carry me.”
She huffs a laugh, eyes rolling. “Seriously?”
I drop my head to her shoulder, still smiling. “I’m not even kidding. I’m so hard I might tip over.”
She covers her face with both hands, laughing harder now. “Oh my god.”
I kiss the side of her neck, then whisper, “Lead the way, Princess.”
She pulls herself off the couch, grabbing my hand. I follow—barefoot and half-dressed, not giving a damn about anything other than getting her behind a closed door.
And I mean it when I say I’m probably going to trip again.
She stops at the hallway, eyes on me like she’s not sure we should do this.
I give her that half-smile that I save for the real moments. “Still a yes?”
Lyla nods, quiet but firm. “Yeah.”
Then she turns and walks toward her room.
And I follow like a man who knows exactly what he’s about to lose control over.
Her bedroom is soft light with lavender-scented air, and it only takes two steps inside before my mouth is back on hers.
She kisses me like she needs me, like she’s been holding back for way too long. And I’m done pretending I don’t feel the same.
I walk her backward until the backs of her knees hit the bed, then push the sweatshirt off her shoulders. My hands find her waistband, and she lifts her arms again without hesitation. Her leggings and panties come off in one smooth motion, and I step back just long enough to take her in.
Fuck, she’s stunning.
She reaches for me next, tugging at my joggers, and I help her out, kicking them aside. We’re both stripped down, heartsracing. Every inch of my skin is on fire, but all I want is to feel her.
I press her down gently onto the bed, following her. My lips trace her collarbone, down to her chest, and I pause to take one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue over it until she gasps and threads her fingers through my hair.
