Page 46 of The Breaking Pointe
“Oh no,” he says, sounding rather entertained by the situation. “That’s too bad. It’s okay, though, I swear.”
He’ssmilingaboutit.
“You aren’t mad?”I hesitate to speak.
“Mad about a shirt?Noelle, I have a million of these,” he scoffs, reaching for the bottom of it, lifting it over his head.“Hope you don’t mind.The wet spot is gonna drive me insane, rubbing against my skin.”
He dabs the shirt against his stomach, balling it up in his hand.I wanna rub against him and share more physical affection. He’s so olive and smooth looking. I spoke ill of his staring habits earlier, but he’s making me eat my words. I could stare at his chest all day, down to the veins protruding from each muscle, all night. And with drowsy eyes, he looks nearly monstrous compared to me.Deep down, I want to find out how he sounds when he’s breathing over the top of me. It wouldn’t be scary with how sonorous and warm his voice is to me. I want him to tell me all the sweet nothings he can think of. Drunk or not.
My hand is developing a mind of its own at the sight of his bare body, up close. I can’t hold myself back from just a little touch, right on his shoulder, as softly as I can.
His eyes bat at my hand, then my face.“Your hands are freezing,” he says, mock annoyed.
“You’re warm.Really warm.And so smooth,” I say, pushing myself closer to him, flattening my hand on his shoulder fully.
I have to keep going. I’m not done admiring his perfectly sculptured body. I need to see if his chest feels the same.
“You’d be warm, too, if forty percent of your body was covered in hair,” he hums, watching my fingers wander against his chest hairs.
He sets his beer down, and his large fingers wrap around my hand while he takes the glass from the other, setting it on the wood next to his beer.Both his hands are holding mine now, massaging them.
“Lemme warm you up.” He continues to speak, holding each hand firmly in his and pulling me into him, face to face. “I just wanna look at those big, green eyes a little more,”
hemumbles,toppingitwithahalf-smile.
Here we are, back to our unfinished situation from earlier. He’s still charming, but even better while he’s shirtless. My heart is beating out of my chest. He set the candles up just right, like he knew it would woo me, and I’m becoming less shocked about how he’s so good at this game.I’m drunk,sure, but I know he deserves a kiss at least. I thought I knew what the goal was here, but it’s crystal clear that I’ve lost sight of the plot since making out with him right here, right now,isallIwant.Ican’tnotkisshimthistime.There’s nobody here, and nothing that can pull us out of the moment. His warmth is spreading to me, buoyed with the drinksand anticipation that we had been building all day over our countless glances and lingering touches. The power outage turned our world into a cozy cocoon, where nothing exists butthetwoofus,andtheglowingcandlescasuallydance
with our loud heartbeats. That’sit.I’mseizingit.
“Can I try something?” I whisper into the space between our faces.
“Try it,” he whispers back.
Looking in his eyes, there’s a blend of excitement and tenderness reflecting back at me.My heart is steadily pounding, and I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks with a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration.We both sit witha brief moment of hesitation, as if the entire universe has paused to witness this moment with us.I graze my lips against his, tentative at first. My senses are heightened by the wine, and everything is starting to feel like ecstasy. With charged air, I can almost hear themurmurs of unspoken wordsswirlingaroundus.Hishandmovestomycheek,
tucking my hair and cupping my face.
I press my lips against his fully, letting the rest of his warm aura envelop me.
Despite his love for beer, he tastes sweet from his glass of wine earlier, and his beard smells succulent, like oak.His skin has a scent of musk and cinnamon. Possibly the most delightful thing I’ve ever smelled when it’s all together.And all I want is more of it to consume me. Like that feeling when you hear a song and it gets to the bridge.The part you’ve been waiting for the entire time.The best part.And then, finally, you just go crazy.Fireworks, special effects, and all. I move my hand to his thigh, gliding it up to his waistand back down, squeezing it.Everything feels fuzzy the more we deepen the kiss—my insides, my hands, my feet.
Everything.
I don’t know anything about science or why these things happen.I’m not even sure I wanted things to go this far, this fast. How can one man make me this unsettled? This is desperate.I just want him on top of me, and that’s it.Not in a lusty,Fifty Shadeskind of way.But in a Noah and Allie in the house he built for them sort of way. He could take me right here. I wouldn’t decline it.
Before I can get too encapsulated in his lips, he grabs the small of my neck and pulls away, abruptly, breathless and laughing softly. I can see the surprise and delight dancing in his eyes as he examines my face.
“Did I do something wrong?”I breathe out my nose, batting my eyes open to see his.
“Not even.That felt so right.”His chest pumps as he looks back at me, still beaming.
“So don’t stop yet,” I demand, smashing my lips into his
again.
He gets sucked into it, just like before, humming against my mouth as he starts to mumble through the kiss.
“Then you tell me when to,” he breathes, pulling my legs around his waist, wrapping one of his thick arms around mine.
