A Kiss Like This (Kiss and Make Up #3)(81)

“Climbing out that…” I gasp “…window at the Kappa house was the… single best decision I’ve ever made.” My head tips back and his lips find the beating pulse on my neck. “B-besides coming to this university, with that house, and that window.” I say it quietly, in a slurred, drunken whisper before I lose my courage.

I feel him smile against my neck, and he nips my shoulder with his teeth as his hands caress the soft skin of my naked breasts. “I’m one lucky bastard.”

I giggle. “I sure am glad it wasn’t Cubby standing outside the day I climbed out that window.”

Caleb pulls his mouth off my neck. “That’s not even funny.” He pouts and nudges me onto my back.

“Oh!” I gasp as he climbs on top of the bed, on top of my pristine, virginal white duvet.

He leans down, rubbing his stubble along my jawline. “Did you miss me, Abby?”

“Yes. So much.”

“What an awkward pair we make.”

“Would you stop talking and kiss me?”

“Whoa, someone’s gotten bossy in the six days I’ve been gone.”

I groan in frustration and roll my eyes. “Stop teasing.”

“You want a kiss?” He plants a chaste kiss on my cheek, a wet smacking sound resonating in the room. “Like that?”

No, not like that. My brows furrow, but I’m not yet forward enough to make sexual demands. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.

“Or like this.” Another kiss, this one on my temple. “Or like… this.” His firm, beautiful lips kiss one corner of my mouth, then the other.

“That feels… kind of okay,” I joke, getting into the spirit.

“Kind of okay, she says.” Caleb’s mouth hovers a whisper above mine. “Kind of—”

“Would you. Stop. Talking already? Kiss me like you mean it.” Even in the dark, I can see his eyes blazing with arousal as he stares down at me, shaggy, unkempt hair falling in his eyes. “Kiss me like you haven’t kissed me in six days. Kiss me like… like this.”

I pull his head down and our mouths reconnect, a reunion one full week in the making, the delicious taste of him on my tongue assaulting my senses in the best possible way.

Pressing our lips together, we make out, unhurriedly. Recklessly. Moaning. Sighing. Wet. Tongues, lips, and teeth.

It’s perfect.

“Shit, that’s sexy. If I thought—“

“Shhhh!”

I pull him down again, my palms running lightly over his bent shoulders, memorizing every smooth contour of this boy’s sinewy muscles—this shy boy who kisses me so sweetly that my heart could actually burst from the joy of it all. This shy and cautious boy who makes me feel beautiful. Wanted.

Confident.

Like I steal his breath away.

The way he steals away mine.





Acknowledgements

It began with a book review…

I can remember what I felt that day I hit the “publish” button on my first book—the button that would make it LIVE! online for all the word to read. With a jumble of nerves and a wave of uncertaintly, I hit it anyways.

A few months went by. Out of the blue, I received a message from a woman who wanted to review it; a mother, blogger, and author. By chance, she happened upon my book and—holy crap—actually liked it! Reviewed it. “Pimped” me out (her words, not mine). See, I was doing the writing/publishing thing on my own, navigating through a publishing world I knew absolutley nothing about, and still wasn’t sure I was even enjoying it.

So imagine my genuine surprised that someone out there—someone who knew their shit—actually cared enough to reach out to me. Saw potential and wanted me to be better. What’s more; I wanted to be better.

So. Me being me, I found her online and sent her a note:

“Will you be my friend?”

She said yes, and a friendship was born.

A friendship with a woman I haven’t even met in person.

So, Chelle, thank you.

And thank you for introducing me to other brilliant, funny, foul mouthed woman whom I respect, admire, and have come to trust; without the Book Swappers, I probably still wouldn’t know what the bleep I was doing. They give me insight, laughter and advice on a daily basis. Although, also thanks to Chelle, they think I like porn. But… whatever. I soooo don’t.

Thank you Murphy. Reading your comments in my manuscripts is like reading short stories themselves. You’re an incredible artist, wordsmith, and editor. A true industry professional. I hope that someday, I can return the favor and teach you a bit of knowledge that helps you in some, small way, as you’ve certainly helped me. Wait. Are you editing this shit right now? Youu are, arew’t you.?

Chelle and Murphy. Every day you help me grow and become a better writer. Mostly by saying things like “No. NO! Just, no.”

Of course, a big thank you to the husband, who is amazing, supportive, and proud. He supplies me with all the Starbucks I need to stay awake during the day so I can write, and doesn’t comment on the fact that I stay up all night reading. My beautiful girls, who are incredible, funny, and beautiful. Talented and smart. Like moi.

Abby. My muse. Thank you for reading and reading and for the feedback. Somewhere out there is a guy who will make you blush, but for all the right reasons—and for once, you will stare at him for more than 3 seconds before looking away. You’re brilliant and clever, and I’m so glad to know you and call you my friend.