Page 101 of The Worst Best Friend: A Small Town Romance

He lifts a brow. “Kiss me? You sure?”

“Um, yeah,” I squeak back.

“Why the fuck would you do something so crazy, Shel? We’re just friends.”

Right. The look he beams down is anything but platonic.

Friends don’t look at friends like they want to devour them.

“Because you came to my rescue, dude.” My fingers tumble back and fall against his chest loudly.

He glances away, his nostrils flaring as he inhales a breath that must be three hundred degrees.

I swallow thickly.

Afraid that he’ll push me away, and that I’ll sink, I add, “I’d kiss you because I want to...because I can’t stop thinking about earlier. Not for the life of me.”

All right, screw it.

I show him just how much I mean it by pressing my lips to his bearded chin.

He rewards me with a low growl like thunder. And I pray he won’t push me away, won’t embarrass me, and won’t protest, but for the love of God, kiss me back.

For once in my life, my prayers are answered.

His lips pounce on mine with so much passion I’m utterly breathless. Destroyed.

A happy ruin.

It’s almost worse that what begins so wickedly ends like a sugary dream.

His lips slow, gently caressing mine, equally delightful and maddening.

The touch is so sweet, so delicate, it has my entire body thrumming, delirious with need.

His superpower must be the art of the tease. Every stroke of his lips, his tongue, the swipe of his mouth against mine is freaking catnip.

And me, I just...

I fall so hard I have to cling to him. I need him to hold me up.

My arms wind around his neck as I press my breasts hungrily against his chest, loving the pressure, the way the hard mass of his body drags over my nipples.

His hands grasp my waist and pull me closer still, so our hips touch, bleeding passion even through our clothes.

My lips part as he rears back to look at me, desperate for air.

The way his tongue conquers my mouth is a maddening thrill, each movement as claiming as a man staking a fence on his property, marking it as his.

His tongue finds mine again, this time with a hunger I can feel in every atom. I whimper back, meeting it helplessly as a teasing chase begins.

Is it possible to get high off a kiss?

I totally do.

His hands slide under the back of my shirt, grazing my skin, matching the rising hunger in his mouth with a manic energy that’s so exhilarating it hurts.

I think I could come without losing a single piece of clothing.

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