Page 28 of The Virgin Rule Book (Rules of Love 1)
My eyes float closed, and my body screams, Touch me.
I whisper, “You’re definitely in mine.”
His lips travel softly along my neck, closer to my jaw, brushing there and making me shiver. He cups my cheek. “This is what an accidental kiss looks like in the movies,” he says.
Then he sweeps his lips across mine.
I melt.
We’re talking tingles everywhere.
Along my arms, down my chest, between my legs.
Tingles of desire and longing as he kisses me in a kiss to end all kisses.
It’s a kiss that lights up the sky. A kiss that makes you want to write down every detail, record every second, imprint it on your mind for all posterity, so you can recall later on what it felt like to be kissed like this.
It feels like how kissing was meant to be.
A delicious, decadent good-night kiss.
His lips brush mine gently at first, a whisper of a kiss. His breath is soft, a needy exhale, like he’s wanted this all night.
And my God, so have I.
I’ve been craving it while denying it, but I don’t want to deny anything now.
Not the tender sweep of his lips, not the delicious exploration, not the way he flicks his tongue across the corner of my mouth.
Mmm, that tantalizing moment sends a wild thrill through my cells.
We linger in the kiss, lips and mouths taking their time, getting to know each other. Savoring every lush second.
His lips are magic.
They make my body perform all sorts of tricks, like the disappearing act of my willpower.
It’s vanished, gone like a rabbit in a hat.
And I don’t care.
This kiss spreads from the center of my chest to the tips of my fingers. It lights me up from head to toe.
It makes me want him desperately.
Then want him even more when he kisses me deeply.
Hungrily.
Giving me exactly the type of kiss we needed to try out tonight. Like he knows this is the only kind of kiss we ought to have.
A promise.
But it’s more than a promise. This cracks open a whole new world of possibility.
And it ends before we let it go too far.
For that, I’m grateful too.
He runs his hand down my arm, giving me a dopey smile. “Just so you know, I like accidental kisses even better than accidental butt squeezes.”
Feeling emboldened, I reach a hand around and I squeeze his butt one more time. “Same here, but I do like both.”
His grin is all kinds of crooked.
I can’t resist. Leaning in, I drop a quick kiss onto his lips, then spin around. I slide the key card across the reader, open the door, and head inside. But before the door shuts, I pop my head back out, needing the reassurance. “We’re still friends, right?”
He rolls his eyes like that’s the craziest thing anyone has ever said. He reaches for my cheek, sliding a thumb across my jaw. “We’re absolutely friends, even though I would very much like to kiss you deliberately again.”
My heart hammers.
My body pulses.
Oh yes, I want all the deliberate kisses.
Everywhere.
And I’m pretty sure that’s what’s called friends with benefits. Because I’m the kind of woman who says what’s on her mind, who likes clarity, I do just that. “That was a friends-with-benefits kind of a kiss, right?”
“And it was a very good benefit of our friendship, wouldn’t you say?”
I can’t stop smiling. “I would definitely say so.”
This time I wave goodbye for real, shut the door, sigh ever so happily, lean my head back against the wall, and close my eyes.
I just kissed the best man.
And it was spectacular.
12
Nadia
Flopping down onto the soft couch, one arm hanging off the side, I can’t stop grinning.
It’s just not possible. This smile can’t be erased.
Running my finger across my lower lip, I let the reel play before my eyes once more.
The way he swept his thumb over my jaw, held my face, explored my lips.
With a contented sigh, I savor the aftereffects of the knee-weakening kiss with the man I’ve crushed on since I was a teenager.
My skin tingles, and as I close my eyes, the movie screen shows me A Kiss with Crosby over and over.
It’s a fantastic double feature.
Morning sun streaks through the window. A heavy breath pulls from my chest. A yawn tugs at my mouth as I rouse.
A slow glance down reveals I fell asleep in my dress. Must have kicked off my shoes, but otherwise I’m still in bridesmaid couture.
Dragging myself up from the couch, I head to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and shimmy out of my dress. I return to the suite, tug a T-shirt from my overnight bag, and find my phone on the table.
I call Scarlett on FaceTime. Her eyes widen the second she sees me. “Someone slept with her makeup on and her hair still done up bridesmaid-style,” she says, an I know what you did last night grin lighting up her face.
