Page 6 of Jagged Line Paradise

I’m nervous, more than I was before I dove in for the first kiss, because I have no idea what to do now. I’ve hooked-up with a lot of girls. I’ve done things that Lonnie knows nothing about, things she’llneverknow about if it’s up to me. I don’t know what she’d think of me if she knew about the things I’ve done. But the point is that I’ve never been nervous about this shit before.

She’s not like other girls. Lonnie isn’t some slut that I don’t care about. Lonnie is different, special. She’s precious to me, and I don’t want to use her like I used them. I fantasize about doing that filthy shit to her, but I would never. She deserves better. She deserves roses and candlelight dinners and romance and a happy life. I don’t really know how to do romance or how to give her a happy life, but I know that I want to try for her.

It’s why I’m so nervous. I’ve got it bad for her, and I’ve wanted this for a long time. I just don’t want to fuck up our friendship in the process.

Her fingers grip the back of my hood and tug back from the base of my neck until she’s pulled it down completely. Her palm cradles the back of my head and I’m surprised by the softness of her touch. She’s hesitant; I can see her fear written all over her face, and I wonder what scares her the most.

Is she afraid because it’s her first kiss?

Is she afraid of wrecking ourfriendship?

Is she afraid ofme?

She takes a breath and her fingers tentatively curl into my hair at the back of my neck. I blow out a slow breath, trying to get control of my fast-beating heart as she sparks a tingle that shoots straight through me to my cock.

Shit.

I can’t get a hard-on.

Not here, not now.

I’d never forgive myself if I scared her away. Yet her fingers dig in tighter, tugging at my thick locks, combing through them as if she likes the feel of my hair in her hands.

Fuck.

I love the feel of her fingers playing with my hair. It tickles and satisfies like she’s scratching an itch I didn’t even know I had.

Whoam I kidding?

I knew the itch was there.

It’s been there all along.

In moments, she’s breathless, panting in a way that can only be desire, and I’m dying to taste her again. “I wanna kiss you again.”

Her forehead is still pressed to mine and both our heads move as she nods. “Okay.”

I smile and she does, too.

Damn, I love her mouth.

Her lips are wide, the most unique feature on her beautiful face—other than the freckles on the apples of her cheeks. Both her lips are full and thick and perfectly pink. The center dimple of her upper lip disappears when she smiles full-on, giving her the most unique, sexy grin I’ve ever seen. I need to feel her lips on mine again. I tilt my chin and go for it, leaning in to kiss her.

When our lips meet this time, she lets out a whimper and her fingers tug at my hair as her hands tighten around my neck. It’s as if she’s found a strand of hair to pull on that leads directly to my dick, and I groan.

I struggle with how fucking horny this makes me. I should stop, I know I should. But then she shoves her tongue inside my mouth, and I can’t stop, especially with the clumsy, inexperienced way she tastes me. She’s innocence begging for knowledge, and hell, I want to be her teacher. I want to spend every night with her practicing with our tongues tasting each other.

I lash at her tongue with mine, swirling it around and lassoing it into submission. I take control of the kiss and she follows my lead, shallow breaths from her nose puffing against my cheeks. I pull her impossibly closer and drop my hands down to her waist. My fingers have a mind of their own, toying with the hemline of her tank top, sneaking it up just a little. She yanks her head back and I’m kicking myself for touching that damn hemline.

Too much, too soon for her.

“What are you doing?” she asks, but she doesn’t sound angry or scared, just curious.

The skin around her lips is flushed red from our kiss and the beauty of it destroys me. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she says quickly. “No. I just…you’re making me nervous, Andrés.”

“It’s okay,” I say, though I’m more than a little disappointed. “We can stop.”

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