Page 50 of Fall for Me

Chelsea blinked, but her eyes didn’t leave mine. Had she felt it too?

I focused on her wound, turning it palm up so I could examine the angry red scrape from the asphalt. Her hand was so much smaller than mine; the skin so much softer. I brought my thumbs onto her wrist, resting them on her soft pulse.

Fuck.

I realized what I was doing and grabbed quickly for the antiseptic. Without warning or distraction, I spritzed her right hand quickly, needing suddenly to be done with this before I embarrassed myself.

But Chelsea sucked in air, and when I did the other hand, she sucked in a breath. “What happened to distracting me?”

What could I say? I wanted to stay here all day holding onto her? That the feeling of her skin against mine was enough to make my cock swell?

But her eyes, when she looked at me again, looked almost wounded. And for the hundredth time in the past however many minutes we’d been together, my body reacted without my mind telling it that it was okay to do so.

“Sorry,” I said, and pulled her hand up to my face. Before I thought about what I was doing, I lowered my lips and blew on the wound, softly, in slow circles.

The way her eyelids fluttered, I knew I’d made a mistake.

Heat punched my belly, going lower than it should have. My cock did stiffen then.

I swallowed the dryness in my throat. I wanted to say sorry again, but Chelsea blinked. “Do the other one.”

Fuck.

Our eyes locked. Bad. This was bad. But I couldn’t say no to her. It was impossible.

I took her other hand and blew. This time she closed her eyes, leaning back, exposing the long column of her throat.

“Chelsea,” I said, my head trying desperately to grab a toehold in the sudden heat going through me.

“Did you see I hurt myself here, too?” Her voice was nearly a whisper. She slid forward, so she was sitting at the edge of the couch, only inches from me. Then she turned, revealing the barest scrape across her jaw, right where it met her ear.

The heat ran lower, making my dick jump.

This was all fucking wrong.

I should have told her it wasn’t bad, the skin wasn’t even broken, but instead I slipped one hand up behind her neck, and the other on her throat. I tipped her head back and before I could stop myself, I leaned in and blew on that one, too. Then I blew again, this time into the shell of her ear.

Chelsea let out a soft sound, and something inside me melted. Something I didn’t know was frozen. My dick swelled thicker.

I knew, I knew how wrong this was. What kind of position this would put us in.

“Chelsea,” I drew my hand down her throat, pressing it against her chest. I could feel her heartbeat under my palm. Feel the soft swell of the top of her breast against my forearm. I kept my lips at her ear, knowing if I pulled back and looked at her, it would all be over.

I should have said I wanted to finish with the bandages and get her home. I should have said I needed to keep my word with her brother. I tried—I willed my blood to stop pumping so hard with desire for this woman. But my body wouldn’t surrender so easily.

I wanted to kiss her.

Instead, I brought my teeth to her earlobe, pressing down on the soft flesh and tugging. It was the only way I could keep my mouth away from hers.

She let out a soft breath, arching her back, and I dipped lower and pressed my lips onto the spot where her shoulder met her neck. She was salty and sweet and perfect, and did I imagine it or were nipples hard against my chest? Was her bra so thin I could feel them? My mind became cloudy with need and my hand slid down.

I needed to feel.

They were. Her nipple was a pebble under my palm. I pressed my hand, cupping the whole of it, and bringing my mouth down to the space where her top met her skin.

“Fuck,” I said out loud. I was doing this and I shouldn’t be doing this, but I wanted her so fucking badly I couldn’t think straight. I slid my other hand up and gripped her hair, pulling her away from me, forcing myself to look into her eyes. “Stop me. You have to say stop, because if you don’t, I’m going to kiss you, and if we do that…”

She brought a hand up and held her fingers against my mouth. Her lips parted like she was going to speak, but she seemed as if she was restraining herself. As if by not saying anything, she could suspend this moment, abstain from the decision.

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