A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime(72)
Make me want to touch it.
His stomach is washboard flat, and ripples with muscle when he moves. There’s a thin path of dark hair just below his navel, trailing into the waistband of his sweats, and I’m suddenly filled with the urge to follow that path with my fingers. Slip my hand beneath the front of his sweats. Touch his thick, hot—
“You’re staring, Birdy.” His deep voice settles between my legs, pulsating. Reminding me of what he did to me with his fingers the last time we were together.
A shiver moves through me at the memory.
“You’re shirtless, Crew.”
He glances down at himself, rubbing his hand across his rib cage before he returns his gaze to mine. “Does it bother you?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m just—”
“Shocked?”
“I didn’t expect it.” I squeeze my thighs together, feeling…
Achy.
Needy.
“I don’t want to watch this movie anymore.” He leans over and grabs his laptop, setting it on top of his desk. He doesn’t rejoin me on the bed.
“Me either,” I admit softly.
We stare at each other for a moment and I let my gaze drop to his chest again, fascinated. My fingers literally itch to touch him and I sink my teeth into my lower lip, trying to fight the feelings coursing through me.
The pretense of hanging out with Crew to watch a movie for class is long over. The make-out session proves that. I know why he invited me over. And I know why I showed up.
“Come here,” he demands, and I don’t protest.
Why would I?
I climb off the bed and walk toward him, letting him take my hand. He pulls me in close. I reach out, resting my hand on his side, his hot flesh burning my palm, and I lift my head to find him already watching me, his lips curled into a mischievous smile.
“I got you a treat.”
“What is it?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Blow Pop. Cherry flavored.
My favorite.
I lift my gaze to his. “Why did you get me a lollipop?”
I know why he did. I just want to hear him say it.
Crew leans in close, his mouth right at my ear, making me shiver. “I want to watch you suck it.”
My entire body flushes hot. “Why?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I couldn’t stop thinking about you in class, sucking on that Blow Pop. How fucking sexy you looked. How red your lips and tongue got from licking the candy.” He nuzzles my face with his. “I want to kiss those pretty red lips,” he whispers in my ear. “Taste you.”
I’m breathless when he pulls away, a smirk on his face as he pulls the wrapper off the sucker and tosses it over his shoulder.
“Crew—” I’m about to give him a lecture about littering, but he cuts me off.
“Suck.” He rubs the lollipop across my lips. Back and forth. Tracing their shape. I part them and he slides the candy just inside. “Do it, Birdy.”
I wrap my lips around the Blow Pop, sucking on it. His eyes are fixed on my mouth, and they flare with interest.
“Show me your tongue. Lick it.” He pulls the candy from my mouth but leaves it resting there.
As usual, Crew is taking something that started out as innocent—and something I do often—and turned it into something dirty.
For some reason, I don’t mind. I want to do this.
I want to show him what I can do with a lollipop.
Pushing past the embarrassment, I slowly circle the top of the candy with my tongue, our gazes locking, my heart racing. I close my eyes and lap at the candy, enveloping it with my lips before I let it pop out again.
“Jesus,” he mutters, sounding pained. I open my eyes to find his tortured expression, and a heady rush flows through me, along with a realization.
There’s power in sex. In me and my sexuality. I was always so scared of it. Afraid I’d give myself to the wrong person. That I’d be humiliated and ashamed of sharing my body with someone who didn’t deserve it.
And maybe Crew Lancaster doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve me, but I’m giving myself to him anyway. I’ve given him a part of myself already, and by participating in this now, tonight, I’m about to give him another piece.
I can see it in his eyes that he wants me, and that’s heady stuff. That he feels as strongly as I do.
Because I want him too.
Crew removes the sucker from my mouth and kisses me, his tongue thrusting in between my lips, a groan sounding low in his throat. That same hungry sound he always makes when he kisses me, as if I he can’t get enough. I open to him, letting him devour me, my tongue sliding against his. He sucks on it, and I run my hands up his chest, marveling at the strength I feel shifting beneath my hands. Smooth warm skin and hard, unyielding muscle. That tease of soft hair between his pecs.
He breaks the kiss first, breathing hard as he stares at me. “You taste like cherries.”
I nod, my mind empty, my entire body tingling. I stare at his mouth, rising up so I can press my lips to his once again, and he cups the back of my head, letting me take control. I test the varying ways I can kiss a boy. Soft. Hard. I bite his lower lip, and he growls.
The sound only encourages me to bite harder.
I suck his upper lip between mine. Trace the shape with the tip of my tongue. Thrust my tongue between his lips, sliding it against his. Grip his head with my hands, running my fingers through his silky hair.