Page 55 of Where the Little Birds Go (Little Bird Duet 1)

“You’re going to have books with your name out there for everyone to fangirl.” His hand finds mine over the blankets, our fingers playing tug-of-war.

“One day.”

“It’ll happen, Little Bird.”

“Mm.”

Sleepiness washes over me again.

“Kinley?”

I look up at him. “Yeah?”

His eyes dip down to my lips. “Thank you for being there for me. It means more than you know, especially with Dad…”

I wet my bottom lip. “You know I’ve got your back, superstar. And like I said before, your dad loves you. He’s just struggling.”

“And you?”

I blink. “You really have to ask?”

Instead of smiling, he leans in and bumps his nose with mine. His warm breath invites me to tilt my chin up and capture his lips the same time he brushes mine. One of his hands cradles my face as I sit there and absorb the minty taste of his breath. Collecting enough courage, I make a move to straddle his lap, forcing him to shift to the center of the bed so I have room. My knees rest on either side of him, his hands grasping my cotton-clad hips.

“Hey,” he whispers, squeezing me. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking right now. Talk to me, Little Bird.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I’m thinking that I’m happy for you. I’m excited you get to start living your dream. And I’m thinking … that I’m not thinking at all.”

My lips go to one cheek, then the other. Slowly, I trail them over his lips and leave a barely-there kiss like the first one he ever gave me. His fingertips twitch on my hips but stay where they are. Letting me explore, I wiggle on his lap until he bites back a groan. My spine straightens when I feel him harden beneath me. Our eyes meet and his cheeks pinken like mine.

“Corbin?”

I think his throat bobs. “Yeah?”

“Do you think … I mean, would it be okay if we, uh…” I lick my lips and feel my confidence wavering by the self-doubt increasing in the pit of my stomach.

His fingers find the hem of my shirt. “May I?” He tugs the material up, leaving my heart racing over what will happen if I say yes.

I nod in a daze, letting him peel the shirt off me and let it drop on the floor. His eyes widen as he takes in the sports bra I’m wearing. My boobs aren’t very big—barely a B cup. But he looks at them like he’s never seen something so beautiful, and my entire body blushes over the light in his eyes.

My hands go to his sweatshirt, the AC/DC one with the red lettering peeled and faded. He lifts his arms and lets me take it off him, revealing a thin sleeveless top underneath. I study his lean torso and how his breathing picks up. The bulge twitching under me grows harder the longer I stare.

Swallowing, I lift my gaze. “Show me what to do?” The question is soft, like a quiet demand as my pleading eyes stay unblinking on his.

He reaches behind him and takes off his shirt, tossing it on the floor with mine. My palms go to his bare skin, leaving goosebumps over my arms and shivers down his body as I explore. I know he sometimes runs, but he’s cut like he works out too—not overly muscular, but lean. Strong. Beautiful.

His mouth finds mine as he holds me to him, my pelvis grinding down involuntarily. He bites down on my bottom lip and groans the same time I let out a soft gasp. Carefully, he trades positions. My back hits the mattress as he sits up and plays with the hem of my pajama pants. Without words, he questions me with a tip of his head and raised brow.

All I can do is nod and watch as he slides down the bottoms, revealing the cotton panties underneath. They’re plain blue, lighter than my favorite color, and not very sexy. But he doesn’t seem to care because he’s focused on my body. I’m self-conscious as his eyes trail over me from top

to bottom, and hyperaware that my stomach and thighs show my love of sugar and carbs.

But. He. Doesn’t. Care.

“You’re beautiful, Little Bird.”

Oncoming emotion washes over me, leaving tears in my eyes. His appearance blurs, but I can see the worry in his features.

“Do you want to stop?” Withdrawing, he watches me carefully, unsure.

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