Page 117 of It's Not PMS, It's You
I love the way you look at me, Nicky.
“Incoming!”
I felt a painful thud against the side of my head.
I yelped and flapped my arms as I fell backwards.
Nick’s arms surrounded me to keep me from falling, but a wave crashed into his back, pushing us both into the water and under. He gripped my waist with both hands and pulled me up to my feet, holding me tightly against his body. “I’ve got you.”
I wiped the water from my eyes and blinked a couple of times. “Was that the football?”
Nick cleared some hair from my face. “Yeah. Are you okay?”
I nodded, even though I was a little fuzzy-brained. “I think so.”
“Well, relax. There’s no hurry. I’ve got you.”
You certainly do. And why would I be in any type of hurry when your body is pressed up against mine like this?
“Sorry, lady,” The teenager grabbed the football and jogged away.
“I think I’m good.” I took a deep breath and laid my hands on Nick’s chest.
My gaze shot to the scar over his heart.
I blinked a couple more times, staring at it.
My right hand had a mind of its own, sliding down his chest, and then gently and slowly tracing the scar over his heart with my index finger.
I glanced up at Nick, who was watching me intently, his eyes dark.
Oh, how I want to feel your lips on mine right now.
There was no doubt he wanted it just as bad as I did, but the difference was that I wasn’t going to wait around for him to make a move.
I stood on my tiptoes until our lips met. Wasting no time, I opened my mouth and let him in, wanting to feel his tongue against mine. Nick didn’t disappoint me, taking the lead, and pulling me even closer, deepening the kiss.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I had kissed a man.
Years ago? Decades?
It didn’t matter.
This was divine.
Nick pulled away from the kiss, his eyes locked with mine, our chests heaving, completely out of breath like we had just run a marathon.
Nowthatwas a kiss.
We remained silent.
I wasn’t sure why he said nothing, but I couldn’t think straight. All I could hear was the blood pumping at my temples, beating out a frantic pace.
I was still pressed up against his body, enjoying every second, aware that he was enjoying this as well, and much more than I thought.
Do it again.
His forehead was creased, though.
