A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime (Lancaster Prep )(33)

I’ve never been kissed, but I can only imagine what it would be like, to kiss a man and leave your lipstick on his mouth when you’re done. That seems so…

Romantic.

“Here it is.” I hold my phone out to Crew and he takes it, studying the piece for long, quiet seconds. “What do you think? Can you see how it almost undulates? The artist had the woman press her lips to the canvas in precise spots to create the illusion.”

“I see it,” he says as he squints at my phone screen.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” My voice is wistful, as it tends to get when I talk about my favorite piece of art. It’s still such a disappointment that the work isn’t mine. My father tried so hard to make it the starter piece for my own collection.

When he couldn’t get that one, he purchased another piece by the same artist. It’s lovely, but not the one I wanted the most.

“I think you could recreate that on your own, no problem.” He hands my phone back to me.

“But I don’t want to recreate it.” I stare at my screen, at the lipstick-covered canvas that I adore. “I want this one.”

“How many Chanel lipsticks do you own?”

“None. I don’t really wear lipstick much.” Just lip balm and mascara. That’s about as far as my cosmetics regimen goes.

“With a mouth like that, you should invest in some lipstick,” Crew says.

An unfamiliar sensation trickles through my blood, making me aware of how he’s currently studying my lips. “What do you mean?”

“No one’s ever told you?”

“Told me what?”

He reaches out, his thumb pressing at the corner of my lips, lingering. A barely-there touch that has me tingling all over. “You have a sexy mouth.”





THIRTEEN





CREW





Her lips are soft. The way she’s looking at me?

Sexy as hell.

I’m tempted. Tempted to do a lot of things. Trace her full bottom lip with my thumb. Test her limits, see how she would react to me touching her. What would she do if I slipped my thumb into her mouth? Would she freak out? Bite me? Or would she close her lips around it, holding me there. Maybe even nibble on it? Suck it?

Yeah, zero fucking chance of any of that ever happening.

I reluctantly remove my thumb from her mouth and drop my hand on my desk. She stares at me, her green eyes wide and unblinking. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean what I said, Birdy. You have a fuckin’ sexy mouth.”

She reaches up, brushing shaky fingers against the corner of her lips where I just touched her. “I never really thought of it like that before.”

“I’m guessing you don’t think anything about yourself is sexy.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I really don’t.”

“You’ve never thought of recreating your favorite piece? Buy a bunch of lipsticks and kiss a blank canvas over and over again?” If I had to watch her do that I might jizz in my pants, as if I have no control of myself, which is something I haven’t done in a while.

Something about this girl makes me want to lose all control.

A soft laugh leaves her. “No, I’ve never thought of doing that. Can you imagine?”

I can. I’d love to see that sexy lip print of hers all over a canvas in various colors.

“You should consider it,” I say, purposely keeping my tone even. Casual. “Might be a project for you to work on later.”

“I have enough projects to work on. Including this one.” She taps her pencil on my arm. “Did you have any other questions for me? Class is almost over.”

Damn, time goes way too fast when I’m with her. “I do have another question.”

“What is it?”

“Though I’ve asked you this before.”

Her expression turns wary and a sigh leaves her. “Go ahead. I’ll probably give you the same answer as I did before too.”

“Actually, you never answered me.”

“Oh. Well that was rude of me.”

This girl. I’m surprised she didn’t apologize for her lack of an answer.

“Promise you’ll answer this time?” I raise a brow.

“Maybe.” Her tone is cautious.

Smart move.

“All right.” I lean forward, my gaze locking with hers. “Have you ever been kissed? Be honest, Birdy. Tell me the truth. I’m dying to know.”

She drops her head, staring at her desk. “That’s really none of your business.”

“Only a girl who’s never been kissed would answer that way.” She doesn’t react. “Come on. Tell me. You’ve never felt the press of another mouth on yours?”

Wren stays quiet.

“Warm lips connecting again and again?”

Still nothing.

“That first touch of someone’s tongue, sliding inside your mouth? Circling. Searching. Hands start wandering…” My voice drifts and still no reaction. She’s gone completely still, her head still bent, long dark hair obscuring her face. “Next thing you know, hands are sliding under your clothes, touching you—”

“Stop,” she whispers, lifting her head, revealing her pink cheeks.