Finding It (Losing It, #3)(20)

He nipped my bottom lip, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders. His lips coasted down my chin to my neck. The heat of his breath touched my skin first, followed by the tip of his tongue. He pressed me back against the bar, and I was glad for the support at my back because I suddenly felt dizzy.

I pulled in a breath and even though there was no space between us, I tried to move closer. He was hard to my soft; and for a moment it felt as if my brain detached from my body, like I could see the way his hands clasped me tight and his body curled over mine, but I couldn’t feel it. The world took on that hazy quality of a dream, and a whimper escaped my lips at the thought that this might not be real.

Then his teeth grazed the sensitive skin over my pulse point, and the world snapped back into focus.

It was deliciously real.

He hummed against my neck, the movement of his mouth like a foreign language on my skin—exotic and unpredictable, and sexy as hell.

His kisses burrowed beneath my skin, sparking every nerve ending in my body. And like his kisses really were electric and short-circuited something in me, my legs grew weak, almost numb beneath me.

I took hold of his jaw, just the faintest feeling of scratches against my palm from his facial hair. Pulling his face up to mine, I met his cloudy eyes.

“I think I like your lack of subtlety.”

That familiar smirk tugged at his lips seconds before he tugged my mouth back to his. We were touching—from lips to toes—only touching. His hands gripped me tightly, but only in innocuous places. An ache bloomed low in my belly, and the neglected parts of my body were practically singing with need. I wanted him so bad, I was dizzy with it.

Really dizzy.

I began to have trouble matching his pace, unable to move my lips fast enough. I pulled back. My head was heavy, filled with sand, and I had to clutch his shoulders to keep from toppling backward.

“Wow.”

His forehead leaned against mine, and he growled. “I should have just done that from the start.”

I tried to agree, but he must have kissed away some of my brain cells. I couldn’t get the words to leave my mouth, like there was a disconnect between my body and my brain.

His fingers brushed my cheek, but I couldn’t feel it. That was odd. How much had I had to drink again?

The dizziness swarmed in my head, thick and buzzing, and the world began to move of it’s own volition in my peripheral vision.

“Don’t tell me you’re speechless, princess.”

A giggle poured from my mouth, and he looked as surprised by it as I felt. I let go of his shoulder to cover my mouth, and without that grip, I began tipping sideways.

“Whoa!” His arms wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me up against him. My head tipped forward, too heavy for my neck to hold up, and I lay my numb cheek against his chest.

“Kelsey?”

I tried to open my eyes and look at him again, but my eyelids were so heavy. I felt like I was on some atrocious carnival ride, one spin or flip away from coming apart at the hinges.

Was his saliva alcoholic? I didn’t understand how I could be feeling this way after one and a half drinks. That’s all I’d had, right? He’d finished the last of mine, and then I’d had his.

“My cheeks,” I mumbled.

His hands settled low on my back, hot and possessive. “What about them, princess?”

I tried to shake my head, but all I managed was to turn my head, my lips grazing the center of his chest. He sucked in a breath, and his grip tightened.

I leaned my forehead against him and whimpered a little. I could feel my insides pushing and pulling, reminiscent of the way I’d felt the other night when I’d been sick. But that didn’t make any sense.

He cradled my jaw, and lifted my head back. Our eyes met, and his went from interested to confused in seconds flat.

“Kelsey? What were you saying about your cheeks?”

“Can’t feel.”

“You can’t feel your cheeks?”

I couldn’t feel anything.

“Shit.”

He tilted my head back farther, searching my eyes. The neon lights overhead flashed, blinding me. Black splashed across my vision, and I pulled away, stumbling. He caught me, holding me so tight against him that there was barely any weight on my feet.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked at me with dark, glassy eyes and a hanging jaw. He reminded me of a broken doll. I reached out and touched his lips, and his mouth closed. He looked less broken now, but his eyes were still clouded.

“Kelsey, you didn’t have anything to drink earlier, did you?”

I opened my mouth to say no, but my tongue felt too big for my mouth. So, I shook my head instead.

“Damn it. My drink.”

He lifted me up and sat me on the nearest barstool, and then he turned and called the bartender.

“This drink,” Hunt said. “Did you see anyone mess with it? Anyone touch it besides me or her?”

I didn’t hear if the bartender replied. My body just felt so heavy.

God, I was exhausted. When did I sleep last?

I didn’t even realize I was falling until Hunt’s arms closed around my middle, and he righted me. His face appeared before mine, our foreheads pressed together. He said something, but the sound was delayed, a couple seconds behind the movement of his mouth, and I couldn’t make sense of it. Hunt said my name, then again a few more times. I laughed because the more he said it, the less familiar it sounded.