Page 62 of Checking It Twice
At first, it’s soft and tentative, like she’s testing the waters. But then I groan against her mouth and pull her closer, and she melts into me as if she’s been waiting for this as long as I have.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“Yes,” she whispers against my lips. “I’m sure.”
That’s all the permission I need. I pull her down onto the bed with me, rolling us until she’s beneath me, her dark hair spread across my pillow. She gazes up at me with eyes filled with desire, and something in my chest cracks wide open.
“You’re beautiful,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She pulls me down for another kiss, deeper this time, hungrier. Her tongue slides against mine with a heat that makes my brain short-circuit—soft and demanding all at once. Her hands fist in my shirt, and I can feel the desperation in her touch matching my own.
“I’ve wanted this,” she breathes between kisses. “I’ve wanted you.”
The admission completely undoes me. I kiss her neck, that spot just below her ear that makes her gasp and arch beneath me, and when she wraps her legs around my waist, I lose what’s left of my control.
“Tell me to stop,” I say against her throat, even as I settle more fully against her, letting her feel exactly how much I want her. “Tell me to stop, Clare.”
“No,” she replies fiercely, her hands sliding under my shirt to find bare skin. “Don’t stop.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ground Rules
Clare
His hands are everywhere—my waist, my back, tangled in my hair—and I can’t get enough. I’ve never been the type to lose my head over a guy, but Mitch is unraveling every careful thread of self-control I’ve ever possessed.
“We should—” he starts between kisses, but I cut him off by gently biting his bottom lip.
“Should what?”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gray eyes dark with desire. “Set some ground rules. Before we—”
“Before we?” I challenge, my hands already working at the buttons of his shirt.
“Before I lose what’s left of my mind,” he admits roughly.
Despite the heat coursing through me, I pause. Because he’s right. We should talk about this. Figure out what we’re doing before we do something we can’t take back.
“Okay,” I breathe. “Ground rules.”
His thumb traces my bottom lip, and it takes everything I have not to suck it into my mouth. “We keep our jobs separate from this. Whatever happens here stays here.”
“Agreed.” My voice comes out huskier than intended.
“And...” He hesitates, his hands still spanning my waist. “Clothes stay on. We don’t cross that line.”
I nod, even though the restriction makes me want to argue. “Just this then.”
“Just this.”
But then his mouth is on mine again, and “just this” feels like everything and not nearly enough all at once.
His hand slides under my sweater, and I arch into the touch, my brain short-circuiting when his palm pushes under my bra and finds bare skin. He’s warm, calloused from hockey, and the contrast against my soft skin makes me gasp into his mouth.
“Okay?” he murmurs against my lips.
“More than okay.”
