His thumb moves over the top of my hand and I shiver with the contact. My mouth runs dry at the thought of how close we both are to going over this edge. “I can guarantee that bolting past you was never on my mind.”
“Who are you, Emily?” he asks in a husky voice.
I don’t know who I am here. At home, I’m definitely not this. But here? “I’m not shy, and for today, I’m bold.”
“Are you sure about that?” In less than a second, Oz wraps his arms around me, erases the minute distance between us and presses me to him. One of his hands roams the small of my back while the other wanders to my hair. His fingers play with the ends and the gentle pull causes pleasing goose bumps to form along my skin. “Are you sure this is the position you want to be in with me?”
He’s playing with me, he’s testing me, he’s insisting that I tuck my tail between my legs and admit that I can’t go through with what I’ve started, but he doesn’t get how badly I want to understand what’s going on, to learn the truth.
My pulse picks up pace and adrenaline shoots through my veins. This is a means to an end, a means to an end alone, but what frightens me is how much I desire this.
I edge my hands up, brush them against the hot skin of his neck, let my fingernails dance near the tips of his longer hair. Oz’s body tenses and melts into mine at the same time.
“Does that feel like I’m playing?” I whisper.
His hold in my hair tightens. “Whatever you think you’ve got planned isn’t going to work. You’re not walking out that door.”
“Are you scared of me?” I taunt.
“I’m scared of no one. If you want to do this, we’ll do this, but as I said, you’re not going anywhere, so you might as well step back now.”
I may not be going anywhere this very second, but I will be soon. Very, very soon. “Are you going to stop me from leaving?”
“Yes,” he answers as his hands begin to wander and I move my head closer to his, placing my mouth undeniably near his.
“Unless you’re scared, then stop me, Oz.” Our lips briefly touch as I speak. “Kiss me and stop me from leaving right now.”
His nose skims my cheek and he’s still battling the chemistry between us. My own blood hums and frustration kicks in. “Kiss me. Just stop thinking and kiss me.”
He accepts the challenge as he crushes his lips against mine. My knees immediately buckle and, searching for stability, I weave my arms around his neck. Oz uses his strength to support me in response. My fingers rake through his hair. His hands massage my back.
A warmth spreads in my stomach and it’s a driving need that causes me to curl myself around him. Both of Oz’s hands slip down my spine. A slight brush along my bottom and I suck in a surprised and excited breath as Oz grabs on to the back of my thighs.
My eyes open when Oz lifts me in the air and in a fast twist, I’m against the door right at his level. He stares at me. I stare at him. Our chests rise and fall at a rapid rate.
I have what I needed. The leverage to leave, but this...this type of kiss...I want more.
I tip toward him, letting my thighs carry some of my weight on his hips and Oz’s mouth edges up as he briefly closes his eyes, as if he enjoys the friction between us. I like that I affect him. I like all of this way too much.
My fingers drift into his hair, fulfilling my fantasy from earlier, and I tilt my head closer. Oz does the same and heat builds. If we start this again, will we stop? Do I want to stop?
The answer is no.
Mouths stir. A nibble on my lower lip. I take in his top one. A lick of his tongue. And the game continues to increase in intensity. Testing. Tasting. Teasing. Strengthening and growing and exploring and a silent rhythm is created. Soon not only our mouths are moving in time, but so are our bodies.
Oz redistributes my weight so that he’s leaning into me and my back is flush against the door. I part my lips, and the entire world explodes. His tongue sweeps next to mine and we’re both touching and moaning and so hungry for more. The delicious pressure of his mouth on my neck. More. The way his hips maneuver against mine. More. His muscles flexing under my caress. More...
I blink when Oz’s fingers slip to my shoulder near my tank-top strap. My hands slide to his chest and I push. As if I flipped his switch again, Oz places my feet on the ground and jumps back.
A rush of guilt consumes me because none of that is me. None of it. I don’t hook up, but that wasn’t a hook-up. It was a kiss. Just a kiss. Just the best freaking kiss of my life with a guy who hates me.
Oh my God, we were mauling each other. Oz draws down his shirt and readjusts parts in his pants. I drag a hand through my hair and try to ignore how the strands are completely tangled.
I graze my hand across my swollen lips. Just a kiss. Just a kiss. Just a kiss.
I clear my throat and Oz glances at me as if he’s startled.
“Um...” Think straight, Emily. “You need to sneak me out so I can hear what Eli has to say to my parents.”
Oz laughs. “Did you think I’m going to ruin my chance with the club because you thought I’d get sentimental? You’re wrong.”
I shake my head because he misunderstands. “No, you’re going to help me because if you don’t, I’ll tell Eli that you kissed me.”
Oz
EMILY AND I are crouched in the small kitchen next to the general meeting area of the Lanesville chapter. Above us is the open serving window. In the room adjoining the kitchen, chairs shift and there’s the occasional try at conversation between Emily’s parents to fill time.