Page 95 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
“True.” She laughed softly as she glanced at the frat house and then swept her gaze over me. “You look . . . you look good.”
“So do you.”
Her eyes widened just a bit at the sudden deepening of my voice. “Hell, Brit, you don’t look good,” I corrected. “You look hot as hell.”
Brit glanced down at herself. “Have you started drinking already?”
“Haven’t drunk a sip of anything other than water.” I stepped forward, and she bit down on her lower lip as I was close enough to share the air she was breathing. I swallowed a groan as a jolt of pure lust shot through me.
“That’s a first for you.” The hollows of her cheeks deepened under the streetlamp as her gaze drifted over me again. “Aren’t you cold?”
Winter, spring or summer, I was always in Nike flip-flops, shorts and a T-shirt. “Nah, this is perfect weather for me.”
Brit unfolded her arms slowly. “So how’s WVU?”
“It’s good. As expected.” I paused, and the strangest words came out of my mouth. “I haven’t been partying.” Not like I owed her an explanation, but my lips kept on moving. “Just going to classes and studying at the apartment I got up there.”
“I didn’t think you’d really kick off med school partying,” she said, propping a curvy hip against the side of my car. I liked how she was in no hurry to join the party. Neither was I. “I’ve never really believed that you’re a stupid party guy. No matter how much you acted like one.”
I opened my mouth to . . . I don’t know what. Feeling my face heat a little, I rubbed my palm under my chin. “How’s classes been for you?”
“Same old. Nothing really exciting to share.” She reached out, tugging on the hem of my old, worn university shirt. “You know, I think this is like the second time in forever that we’ve had a conversation where we haven’t insulted one another.”
Her small fingers were still wrapped around the hem of my shirt, and as I angled my body toward hers, her arm bent, brushing over my hip. “Is that a bad thing?” My heart kicked like a jackrabbit when she shook her head. “I didn’t think so either.”
She titled her head back and her eyes met mine. “I kind of like it.”
“Kind of?” I bent my head, and her lips parted on a soft inhale. Her eyes took on a hooded, dazed quality that hit me like a punch to the gut. It was now or never to get this shit out of my system so I could go back to normal. “I want to ask you something, Brit. Okay?”
“All right.”
I titled my head to the side and she shivered when my breath danced over her cheek. “Why hasn’t there ever been something between us?”
Brit didn’t answer immediately, but her hand remained on my shirt and hadn’t ended up across my face. “Maybe . . . maybe is because you’ve never asked.”
Muscles in my lower stomach tightened as I leaned in, placing my hand on the roof of the car behind her. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I asked in about every conversation we’ve had.”
“You haven’t asked, Ollie. You’ve insinuated about a hundred different sexual acts during our conversations, but you’ve never asked me if there was anything between us.”
I laughed quietly as her point made its way home. “You’re right. I haven’t, but I am now.”
She let go of my shirt and placed her hand on the center of my chest, searing through the shirt and branding my skin. “You also haven’t asked me out on a date,” she continued, and a small smile appeared as my eyes widened. “You haven’t asked me to even come over to your place without making some kind of innuendo. And you also haven’t even asked me for a kiss.”
“A date?” I got hung up on that. “I wasn’t sure where I could fit in asking you out in-between you threatening to kick me in the balls and walking away from me.”
Brit laughed, and the sound did funny things to my chest. “Maybe if you tried to fit it in, I wouldn’t threaten to do anything bad with your balls and I wouldn’t walk away.”
“So you’d do nice things with my balls?”
“Don’t be gross—”
I swooped down and kissed her. Yeah, I didn’t ask, but somewhere between her talking about dating and talking about my balls, I just stopped thinking. So I kissed her, and the moment my lips touched her, adrenaline rocked me. Like scoring a goal at the end of the game or being near an explosion, my entire body tensed and then hardened.
Her lips were soft like the finest satin and absolutely perfect. My mind was on autopilot as I flicked my tongue along the seam of her lips. When she opened them, a deep sound rumbled up from my chest. I tasted the faint trace of strawberries on her tongue.
She made a small, utterly feminine sound as she leaned into me. Desire arced as the kiss deepened, and I dropped my hands to the sides of her face, tilting her head back. I pressed her against the car and there was no way she didn’t feel what she was doing to me. My hand trembled slightly as I slid it to the nape of her neck, tangling my fingers in the soft edges of her blond hair.
My pulse pounded in all of the major points, but it was more than just a physical reaction. There was something about kissing her that felt like it was the first time and sure as hell wasn’t the first time, but it felt right in a way that made me want to get away from her as fast as possible and somehow get even closer.
