Page 75 of Level Up
“You did, though.”
He frowns in confusion. “When?”
“That other day when you walked me home,” I tell him. “I invited you to come up with me and you said no.”
He looks away now, like he’s the one who’s embarrassed. I’m making this so much worse. “I was afraid I would do something stupid,” he says. “Like try to kiss you even though I knew you weren’t into me like that.”
“But I wanted you to kiss me!” Kind of. Maybe. Probably.Definitely.
“I didn’t know that!”
“And if you were afraid you’d do something stupid then, why aren’t you afraid you’ll do something stupid now?”
“I’mveryafraid I’ll do something stupid now.”
I swallow hard at that. “Like kiss me?”
He glances at my lips briefly. “Among other things.”
His words zing around inside me like I’m agoddamn pinball machine, lighting up parts of me that I didn’t know could be lit.What the actual heck?
I’m pretty sure I stop thinking after that, although I’d probably have to be thinking in order to know for certain.
Instead, I surge towards him and plant my mouth on his—with far less gracefulness than my surname would suggest—hard enough to push him back in his seat, and his arms come around me as if on instinct. The motion pulls me further towards him, and I end up awkwardly hinged at the waist with my leg trapped beneath me.
I should stop and regroup and be normal about this. But I don’t.
What I do is drive myself towards him with enough force to swing my other leg over his, until I’m sitting on his thighs. Which, it turns out, is the perfect place to be for kissing him, no awkward twisting or folding required. I’m going to camp out in this exact spot forever.
I take off his glasses and set them roughly on top of his hoodie, draped over the arm of the couch, after I accidentally smash my nose against them. When I kiss him again, I push my whole face into his. I drag my mouth over his cheek and inhale the scent of his skin. It makes my insides melt.What even is this?
He nuzzles against my face and inhales deeply as well. I think that means I smell good, too. The idea that I could be melting his insides the same way makes me dizzy all over again.
I don’t know what this is, but it isn’t kissing. Kissing is justokay. It’s fine. It’s tolerable.
But when he captures my mouth with his again, it’selectric. When his tongue flicks over my lower lip, when his teeth pull gently, when his hand presses into the small of my back. I’m surprised sparks aren’t shooting out of my fingertips as I dig them into his hair.
I shed my cardigan as I start to overheat, and he squeezesthe sides of my waist, over my t-shirt. It makes my nipples hurt, like I need his hand a few inches higher. I don’t even like being touched there, but they feel tight and hard, and I need him to dosomething.
Without a second thought, I grab his wrist and push his hand up under my shirt to cover one of them. The moan of relief that escapes me is foreign to my ears. His breath comes out shaky against my lips and I can feel that he’s holding back, keeping his hand perfectly still, so I nudge his wrist again and he squeezes me through my thin cotton bra before rubbing his palm in circles.
His tongue flicks over mine again and I imagine it running over my other aching nipple, which sends a shiver through me. I can’t just ask him to do that, can I? It seems rude. And maybe he wouldn’t even want to. I’m probably being such a creep?—
“Audrey,” he says, lifting his hand away to cup the side of my face. I must be doing something weird, because he looks concerned. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I can’t tell him what I’m thinking, it’s too— “I want you to lick my nipple.”
So much for being normal about this.
I figure he’s going to laugh at me, but he just looks up at me with blown-out pupils and nods. “I really want to,” he says, and then his hands are guiding me to rise up on my knees until my chest is at eye-level. Mouth-level. Whatever.
I frantically unhook my bra enough to move it out of the way and hike up the bottom of my t-shirt before he ducks his head to plant a soft kiss on me. The gentle motion is so unexpected that I almost topple backwards, but his hand splayed at my back holds me steady. His other hand comes up to caress the one that isn’t getting as much attention right now, and I whimper in gratitude.
I kind of thought licking my nipple would be just that—another flick of his tongue and I’d be like,okay, that was neat, let’s move on.But instead, he’s full on making out with my boob and I never want it to stop. This can’t be normal. There’s no way this is supposed to feel that good. And there’s no way he could be enjoying this as much as it sounds like he is.
It occurs to me that I should probably hit the brakes on all of this soon; past experience tells me that, oncethe girlsare out, the guy probably expects that sex is going to happen. And I don’t think I’m there yet, if I ever could be.
Except, when my knees start to give out beneath me and I collapse back down into his lap, I can feel his eagerness pressing against me and I realize that it’s possible I am there already. I shift a little in his lap and,holy shit, I am definitely there already.
