Page 48 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
“What do you mean, you’re doing it for me? How does it help me exactly?” She cocks her hip.
I lean closer, invasion of personal space becoming a theme. “If I didn’t play music, you’d hear me jerking off.”
Juliet’s cheeks turn a fiery red. She goes completely still. “That happens every day? You can’t be that horny.”
“I’m a professional athlete who’s currently not getting any action. Masturbating once a day is barely taking the edge off.” I step forward, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. “Why? Are you keeping track?”
Her breath catches. “No.”
But she doesn’t move away.
My hand brushes her arm. Her gaze drops to my mouth.
We move in the same orbit, drawn together like two bodies caught in the same tide. The air between us hums, thick and electric, a current thrumming between us until the only thing left is the pull of her mouth, the heat of her breath. When we collide, it is not gentle. It is heat and want, the sharp edge of something that has been building for years, a collision so inevitable it feels like the universe has been conspiring to bring us to this exact moment.
The kiss is messy, frenzied, uncoordinated, too much. Lips and teeth and desperation and years of unresolved tension.
I kiss her like I’m starving. Like she’s air and I’ve been drowning without having her. Juliet kisses me like she forgot who she’s supposed to be. Like all that careful control just evaporated.
Like she’s desperate for my touch. Like she’sravenous.
She whimpers into my mouth and I slide my hand up her jaw, into her hair, hungry for more. More of her neediness, more of her desire.
I’ve kissed women before. Slept with plenty of them. But none of them ever felt like this. No one has ever looked at me the way Juliet does. No one has ever tasted like heaven on my tongue and moaned, so soft and sweet, that I feel ruined by a kiss.
I’m going to fuck this up. Break her heart, crush her dreams. That’s my track record. That’s the pattern. People get close, and I ruin it. I disappoint them or hurt them or drive them away with my inability to be anything other than what I am.
But damn, at this moment, my lips move against hers, my tongue sweeping against her lips, seeking entrance. For a second, she makes a soft sound and nearly allows my tongue inside her mouth.
Then Juliet pulls back, breathing hard. She looks at me for several long seconds, her shoulders heaving, her face flushed. Those dark brown eyes of hers pin me in place.
“Huxley,” she whispers. “This is a mistake. It can’t mean anything.”
I hate her for saying it, even though I know it’s true.
“Yeah,” I say, even though I want to drag her back and kiss her until neither of us can think straight. I clear my throat. “I agree.”
She walks away toward her room. I stand there in the hallway, breathless, blood pounding in my ears.
She tasted of citrus, vanilla, and musk. Like danger wrapped in silk.
And now I want more. So much more.
What a terrible fucking idea to ever to kiss her.
Chapter12
Juliet
This kiss. What was I thinking?
I don’t even recognize myself at that moment. Leaning into Hunter like that. Letting his mouth find mine like I wanted it. Like I needed it.
I’ve never been the type to lose control, but Hunter has this infuriating way of peeling me open, one taunt at a time. He pokes at all my soft spots. Pushes me just far enough until I forget we’re only pretending.
I keep telling myself it was just a strategy. Just part of the image we’re selling. Two people caught up in the moment, playing our roles too well.
But I know better.
