Page 16 of A Little Tempting
My nose scrunches, and I add, “I should go.”
“You haven’t paid up yet,” he reminds me. “And since I’m not sure I’ll ever get another opportunity…” He shifts even closer, somehow planting his left foot between mine. Since we’re already close, the heat of his leg warms my inner thighs, leaving me even more curious than ever.
Lifting my eyes to the glowing wolf’s, I ask, “You still want to kiss me after I headbutted you?”
“You gonna do it again?”
My eyes narrow. “Maybe.”
His smile spreads. “Worth it.”
He angles my head toward him and bends down, waiting for the briefest of seconds for me to push him away. I like it. The unspoken request for permission despite him technically having earned the right already. When I don’t ask him to stop, choosing to stare at his barely parted lips mere centimeters from mine instead of the wolf mask that’s both terrifying and weirdly a turn-on, he kisses me.
Holy shit, he’s actually kissing me.
It isn’t soft, but it isn’t hard, either. It’s calculated. Perfected. As if he’s had plenty of time refining the art of kissing until he’s nothing short of a master. My eyes flutter closed as I lose myself in the feel of his lips against mine. Then, he slides his tongue along the seam of my mouth and goes deeper, dipping it into me. Tasting me. Teasing me.
I’ve never been kissed before.
Okay, that’s a lie. I’ve been kissed twice. But neither experience was like this. Neither kiss was nothing short of exquisite. Perfect pressure. Perfect taste. Like sweet bread. Orange, maybe? It’s the yeast from his beer. It should be gross, but it isn’t. Actually, I kind of want to taste him more. I open my mouth wider and reach up, grasping his wrist as he continues holding me in place. He’s strong. I can feel it beneath my fingers. Like he’s holding back. Like he could do whatever he wanted to me in this moment. And honestly, I’d probably let him. Which is stupid on so many levels. I don’t know who this is. It’s dark. He’s barely said a word, and even then, he’s only whispered. He’s wearing a mask. He’s wearing black. He’s a stranger, and I likely couldn’t pick him out of a lineup even if I tried. He could be anyone.
Anyone.
And here he is, kissing me. Making my knees weak and my core tighten in a way I’ve literally never experienced in my entire life.
But he knows my name.
It has to count for something, doesn’t it?
I whimper, clenching my thighs, belatedly realizing his knee is still between them.
Shit. Did he feel it?
With a low groan, he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine.
I’ll take that as a yes.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “You taste even sweeter than I expected.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I whisper.
His quiet laugh fans across my cheeks, and he leans away, pulling his mask back into place. “Guess it depends on whether or not I want your brother to beat the shit out of me.” He tilts his head as if he’s debating the pros and cons, then clears his throat and steps away. “You should head back to the house.”
“H-house?”
“The party,” he clarifies, his voice as quiet as ever. “You should get back.”
“Oh.” I wipe at the corner of my mouth with my thumb, then move around him. “Right. I should probably find Fin, too.”
“Good idea.”
On shaky legs, I walk away, forcing them to work, when he calls out, “See you around, Dylan.”
I glance over my shoulder to find him disappearing into the darkness like a ghost. A figment of my imagination. Hell, he might as well be. I don’t know who he is. I don’t know anything about him. But for the first time in…I don’t know how long, I’m curious.
Dammit, I’m curious, which is both exhilarating and frustrating. The question is, does he hope to find another girl to prey on, or is he heading back to the house, too?
And why do I care?