Page 96 of Never With You
“One kiss?”
“One kiss.”
“Why would we do that?”
Nate’s eyes smolder like he could devour me. “Because we want to.”
Air sticks in my throat as his hand goes to my bare shoulder—dang, this strapless jumpsuit. Warm fingers softly slide up my neck and into the base of my hair as his palm cups my cheek. His gaze travels across my face, pausing on my lips before locking in on my eyes.
My heart explodes with fear and anticipation, like it does whenever I’m about to do something dangerous. I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump. Deep down, I know I’m safe. There are ropes and harnesses, but my heart protests, questioning everything. But sometimes, you have to stop thinking about all the ways you might die and just jump.
Nate stares down at me as his thumb tracks back and forth over my cheekbone.
There’s hesitation before decisiveness. Then his lips softly drag across my mouth. The movement is slow at first, teasing, testing, like he’s savoring the first taste of me. But the moment I kiss him back, really kiss him, something shifts. Arms tangle around each other, rocking my body back as the kiss becomes more aggressive. My fingers find the nape of his neck, coiling through his hair. His other hand presses against my back, holding me so close I feel the strength of his body and the tension building between us. Our desperate embrace blurs the line between gentle exploration and bold longing.
We both want this.
Even though there’s no one around.
No reason to kiss—nothing more than a burning desire.
My breath comes in soft, urgent bursts as our lips move with a hunger that sends heat curling through my stomach. Every subtle shift, every tilt of his head, every gentle press of his hand heightens the moment, stirring a heated fervor within me.
It’s stupid.
But even as our lips part to catch a breath, I can’t stop.
I don’twantto stop.
“I still don’t like you,” I mumble against his mouth, as if that’s justification enough for this impromptu makeout.
“I don’t like you either,” he breathes between us.
The words are barely out before we both go back for more, like admitting hate added gasoline to the fire. The kiss is charged, every touch a spark that ignites the flames of desire. I lean into him, led by the passionate emotions Nate evokes in me. I hate him, want him, can’t stop thinking about him, and keep coming back for more like I’m addicted to the intense feelings.
Time slows as the waves crash over our feet. We’re lost in the kiss, the heat of our mouths, the friction between us, until laughter down the beach startles us apart.
It’s enough to bring us to our senses.
We both step back, staring breathlessly at one another.
I touch my lips to try to stop the hum of warmth. “That was?—”
“Not well thought out,” Nate finishes.
He took the words right out of my mouth. “Not at all.”
“Oh, it’s Nate and Carly!” Nate’s Aunt Gina says as she walks down the beach toward us.
It was her laughter we heard seconds ago.
“We should probably talk about what just happened.”
“We will.” He gestures to the group coming upon us. “Later.”
Hopefully, later, I can explain what the heck I just did.
Thirty minutes later,a golf cart drops us off at the villa. Nate reaches into his pocket and pulls out the key card as we walk toward the door.
