Accidentally Amy(38)

His Adam’s apple dipped when he swallowed, and then he said, “I’m fine with staying the way we are, though, so no pressure if that’s what you want.”
He watched her and wowww - she nearly melted from the look. His jaw flexed and their breath mingled and the world held still for a second when their eyes locked. They moved together the tiniest bit, a nearly imperceptible sway, as if one was a magnet, the other steel.
Izzy’s throat felt dry as her eyes traveled over his face. She managed to breathe out the words, “I, um, I would very much like to explore more than--”
His mouth cut her off, landing hard on hers as he inhaled sharply, like he’d been woken from a dream. He angled his head and went deep, and Izzy forgot what every kiss before this felt like. She couldn’t hear or see or breathe anything but him; he was her center.
His mouth went wild on hers, kissing her like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted to do, and she raised her hands and set them on his chest. Grasped at his sweatshirt, needing to get closer. To get more.
His palms stayed planted on the door as his body pressed against hers, as he stepped even closer. She could feel the heat of him, of that solid, warm body, and she felt hungry. Starved. She fisted his shirt and bit down on his lower lip, which made him grunt and press closer still.
“That kiss yesterday fucking gutted me,” he said against her lips. “It’s all I’ve thought about since.”
“Was that you,” she said breathlessly, without opening her eyes, thrilled at the thought of him being even half as obsessed as she’d been. “I dreamt about it last night.”
“Tell me,” he said, moving his mouth down to lick at her neck.
“Can’t,” she said, melting as he nipped her skin and made her burn all over. “Too embarrassing.”
“Come on,” he said, his tongue sliding over the spot.
She sighed, letting her head fall back to give him better access.
“Tell me anyway,” he growled, his voice raspy in her ear as he nipped her earlobe. “Where were we?”
“In your room,” she said, struggling to form words as he kissed her throat. “New bed.”
He raised his head and looked a little wild-eyed. “Naked?”
“So naked,” she said, and the look on his face when she said that told her they were about to have sex against her front door.
And she’d never wanted anything more.
Her hands found the bottom of his hoodie and slid underneath, touching the taut, hot skin of his shredded stomach - holy shit. He sucked in a breath as his palms gave way to his forearms on the door, putting his body flush against hers without the tiniest bit of space between them.
“Iz.” She felt the heat of his gaze before his mouth went back to hers, feeding her unbridled kisses that made her push herself against him. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, taking every hot kiss he delivered as he carried her toward the hall. Her fingers drove into his hair and she wondered how it was possible to feel so much.
She was weakened by it, the power of her want, while at the same time feeling strength in every meeting of their mouths. She wanted nothing in the world but Blake, nothing in the world but the two of them in that moment. It didn't seem possible, but he was everything to her in that white-hot minute.
He made a sound in his throat, but instead of walking into her bedroom, he turned.
He walked through the kitchen - or it seemed like the kitchen but she was too lost in his lips and the way his teeth toyed with her lower lip to worry about geography - and then--
Then he set her down on the kitchen table.
She opened her eyes - which was far more difficult than it sounded - and he was looking down at her with so much sex in his eyes that she felt dizzy. His face was flushed as he said, “I have an idea.”
Holy shiiiiiiit, Mr. Chest wanted kitchen table action? She tried to sound chill when she removed all ten fingers from his thick hair and casually said (as her blood pressure hit what must’ve been a catastrophic range because her hands started shaking and her lips felt tingly), “Change of plans, Phillips?”
"Yeah." He ran a thumb over her cheek and said, “I want to take you out.”


    Blake
He watched that little wrinkle form between her eyebrows, like she was confused.
Yeah, he got that. He was alone with Izzy and they were finally free to do whatever the hell they wanted, yet he was pumping the brakes. Idiot much?
But the thing of it was, he really liked Iz. He liked being friends with her, regardless of the shape of her body (perfect) and the pretty of her face. He liked the smell of her hair and the way her nose squinched when she grinned, but he loved her smartass fuckery even more.
So much so that now, on the eve of their interpersonal possibilities being suddenly green-lit and wide-open, he was nervous that rushing to sex might somehow screw everything up.
He said, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but zero-to-one-hundred seems unwise. Should we maybe stop for dinner?”
Izzy blinked up at him before she said, “Wait. You’re hungry?”
“No,” he said, soothed by the fact that she looked just as disoriented as he felt. “I’m asking if you’ll go to dinner with me tonight.”
“Well, I don’t know,” she said, blinking faster. “Where are you going to take me?”
“Wherever you want,” he said, and he realized he meant it. He looked at that upturned face and felt a little unnerved by how willing he was to give her whatever she wanted, do whatever she requested.