Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(50)


They kissed and touched—his mouth on her neck sucking, nibbling, her fingers in his hair, her teeth biting his ear—and before Keira even realized what was happening, the windows fogged over, advertising to anyone watching what was happening in that Camaro. And then suddenly, a loud bang on the hood and Keira’s eyes opened and Kona’s happy moan turned into a grunt of frustration at whatever jackass it was that had interrupted them as a joke, laughter ringing in their hasty retreat.

Kona sat back, sweat dotting his forehead, and Keira blinked, shot up in the seat and grabbed the door handle.

“Wait.” Kona leaned across the seat covering her hand to stop her from leaving. “Where are you going?”

His frown was almost funny, but the rounding of his eyes told Keira that her leaving that car would undo him. She twisted her wrist so that she could hold his fingers and then brushed that massive hand aside. “I’m going to my room, Kona.” She got out of the car and he sat staring at her, frown deeper, forehead wrinkled with tension. Keira bent down once she was out of the car, leaning forward to smile at him. “You coming or not?”





Kona felt like a punk. And he was, or at least he was acting like one, but Keira did something to him. She made him smile, made him laugh, she had him wanting to take her on dates. And he couldn’t stop touching her. That skin, that taste, the soft little sounds she made when he kissed her, it undid him, had him forgetting that he was just testing the waters, seeing where this thing with Keira would lead him.

Even the curve of her neck as she stood in front of the door to unlock it, had Kona’s chest feeling tight. She barely managed to slip her key in the lock and Kona couldn’t hold himself back. Keira smelled like heaven, all flowery and delicious and her body was a miracle, fine, strong lines, muscle and soft curves and he brushed her hair away to get to that body. Mouth on the smooth planes of neck, lips dragging against each bump, Kona felt her tremble against him.

“In… inside,” she managed, and then the door was open and they were alone.

She kept her back to him, movements slow, silent as she threw her purse and keys onto the bed. She wore dark jeans and a red, fitted shirt with a low back. Kona hadn’t been able to stop watching the small expanse of skin that peeked out of that shirt all night. He’d been dying to kiss her neck, her back, since she walked out ahead of him as they left her dorm earlier. Now it called to him, with her standing next to the bed, shoulders stiff and the appealing silhouette of her hour glass shape just feet from him. He couldn’t stop himself from coming behind her, from wrapping his arms around her waist so he was close enough to taste the scent of her on his tongue.

“I love this,” he said, moving her hair again to get to her neck. He pushed down her shirt and she didn’t object. “And this. Your back is sexy, Wildcat.” Keira moved her neck, giving him easy access to all that glorious skin and he felt her tremble again, arms shaking, hand lifting to his hair as he kissed between her shoulder blades.

She made a noise that sounded like a song to Kona; low, sensual groans as his hands moved up her ribs, as his kisses and licks against her back and neck deepened. Her skin became a sheet of goose pimples that Kona tried to smooth down with his tongue and Keira pressed against him, groans elevating into sounds that were higher, sounds that told Kona she liked how he touched her. And when he couldn’t control his hands, when they came up to cup her breasts, those sounds Keira made were like a symphony; glorious, intoxicating music that made Kona brush his thumbs against her nipples, made him pinch down on them until she was gasping, until she moved her ass against his hard dick.

“Kona… God…” She turned, arms sliding around his neck and Keira kissed him, frantic, eager, tongue immediately separating his lips, then working against his. “Make me buzz,” she said, between kisses, “make my whole body buzz.”

And Kona realized, in that moment, with Keira’s sweet body and provocative scent making him high, making him so drunk on her, that he would do anything she asked. He’d make her skin sing, just to have her touch him the way she was then, just to hear the happy moan shooting out of her mouth like a melody.

Instinct took over and he picked her up, hands on her ass, directing her legs around him. “I’ll make you buzz, Wildcat.”

Her purse and keys fell to the floor when he laid her on the bed, their hips pushing against each other. Kona knew what she wanted, what she needed. He’d experienced enough moments like this in the three years since he’d been f*cking anything that would have him. Senior year of high school had been amazing. Freshman year had made him an expert. This sophomore semester and all of this was old hat. So he knew how to touch a girl to make those moans come quick and easy. He knew where to kiss, how fast to move his fingers, his tongue, so that a girl called his name like a chant.

Kona had moves, practiced, tested moves, and he meant to use them just then. He meant to kiss Keira’s neck, slide his hands in her hair as he attacked behind her ear, down to the slope of her shoulder. Then, he meant to get her out of her clothes, move her knees apart, and slip inside her. Those were Kona’s moves. Usually. That’s what he’d figured out worked best when the girl he was with was anxious, eager to get there.

But Keira Riley was not most girls. Keira was blunt and wild and angry. Keira was beautiful and smart and funny. Keira had crawled into Kona’s brain, separated herself from the memory of everyone he’d ever touched until she became the bright, shining spot among the faceless masses. He could not touch Keira like he had every other girl. She was special.

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