Page 216 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“Sure,” I say as I gather the few dresses in the dressing room.
I hand him one, pushing it past the curtain, and he takes it.
I do the same thing with two more and as I pass him the last one, the curtain parts just enough for his eyes to catch mine.
I bring my arm up around my breasts to stay covered up, but I don’t have to worry—his eyes never stray from mine.
They stay steady.
Fixed.
Like he’s locked in, unwavering, communicating with me through his gaze.
He wets his lips.
My eyes fall to his mouth.
He sets the dresses down.
My heart stumbles in my chest.
He parts the curtain open.
My body shivers.
And when he takes a step forward, closing any possible space between us, I feel a tap on the defensive wall I’ve tried to keep up when I’m around him. A tap just light enough to cause a crack.
So when his arm wraps around my waist, I don’t stop him.
And when his hand tilts my chin up, I wet my lips.
And when his mouth descends upon mine, I press my hand to his chest to brace for impact.
His lips meet mine in a fever of a kiss.
A demanding kiss.
A kiss so hungry, that I can feel it all the way down to my toes as our mouths mold together, him stealing my breath as he threads his hand into my hair.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he pulls away just enough to remove his shirt and drop it to the floor.
My worries, my reservations, they are completely tossed away as I slip into this dreamlike state, where this is real. His feelings for me are real. Into a world where he never hurt me. Where he never made me question my worth. Where he wanted me that morning…wanted me just like he wants me right now.
Gripping my hips, he gently moves me up against the dressing room wall where he lifts me up, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, anchoring myself right over his bulge.
His hands move up my sides as he continues to kiss me with deep hunger, and all I can do is try to match his intensity or give in and let him take over.
When his thumbs land right below my breasts, gently swiping under them, I know there’s only one thing I can do…let him take the lead.
Because this is too much. This is too overwhelming.
This feels far too incredible to not get lost.
And that’s what’s happening—I’m getting lost.
Lost with every kiss.
Every stroke.
