Page 85 of That Last Secret

My knuckles graze her forearm, and heat skates across my skin when I do. The urge to run my hands all over her to feel more of that only intensifies. It’s not the first time I’ve felt this way when I touched her.

Emiline looks down at the place I just touched before looking up at me.

The burning desire in her eyes makes me want to lean in and kiss her.

I promised we could be whatever she wanted us to be. I promised that our last time would be our only time.

I’m usually a man of my word, but I’m losing all restraint.

“Logan,” she whispers.

My hand reaches up, brushing the loose strands of hair out of her face before wrapping my hand around the back of her neck. I keep my eyes locked on hers while my heartbeat thunders in my chest.

“I want to kiss you, Emiline.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s all I can think about doing every time I look at you.”

She moves first, closing the gap between us and pressing her lips to mine. She sits up on her knees, and my other hand comes up to cup the side of her face, keeping her in place. I never want this kiss to end.

She moans into my lips before angling her head to allow a deeper kiss.

Kissing Emiline is heaven and hell.

I shouldn’t be doing it, but damn, it feels right.

I pull myself back from her, and our eyes lock. “I didn’t invite you over for this, Em. I don’t want you to think that.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“But the movie.”

“Fuck the movie,” she breathes out before gripping my face and locking her lips on mine again.

My hands move on their own accord as they reach for her waist. She lifts herself off the couch to straddle my legs, hovering a safe space above me. I tilt my head up, hands gripping her waist as she kisses me with such intensity that my head feels like it’s spinning.

She pulls away, panting as she stares down at me.

Lips perfectly swollen, and a tint of pink across her cheeks.

Fucking perfect.

Emiline’s fingers tangle in my hair, eyes bouncing between mine as if she’s trying to silently figure out the next step.

My hands find the hem of her T-shirt. She sits up enough for me to lift it over her head, leaving her in only a black lace bra, the swell of her breasts directly in my line of sight.

I lean forward, pressing a kiss to her chest right above her heart.

She relaxes on top of me, no doubt feeling what kissing her is doing to my cock between her legs. She moans, and her head falls back, allowing me access to her neck, where I trail kisses along her pounding pulse.

“Beautiful,” I whisper against her skin.

Her hips move ever so slowly against me. Just enough for me to realize that we both lied when we said the last time would be the only time.

“Touch me, Logan.”

I pull the strap of her bra to the side, kissing her collarbone. “Where do you want to be touched?”