He straightens his shoulders and wiggles his brows. “So it’s safe to say I win?”
I narrow my eyes. “Grrr. Yes. That’s the spiciest thing I’ve ever eaten.”
He raises his hands in victory. “Behold the Spicinator.”
“You won, but I am not getting you a T-shirt,” I protest. “And I’m not crocheting you a blanket either.”
“That’s cool. I have bragging rights, and that’s what I wanted.” He inches a little closer to me in the booth. “Hey, do you know what the best way is to get rid of that spicy sensation?”
Curious, I answer, “I don’t. What is the best way to get rid of an intensely spicy sensation?”
“You need to be kissed.”
A little shiver of pleasure spreads across my skin. “So you want to kiss away the residual red chili in my mouth?”
“I’m totally open to that.”
I laugh. But then I stop laughing. Because it’s two months later and we’re still doing this. We’re still being friends, doing all the things we’ve done before, working together, hanging out, and having fun.
When we leave the restaurant, I take his hand, something we’ve done a lot lately.
But this time, it feels vastly different.
He looks down at our hands, then back at me, his eyes flashing with promise. “Is that what friends do?”
I shake my head. “No, and friends don’t invite friends to spend the night.”
9
Gavin
I walk her up the steps, my hands on her hips. It takes a very long time to get to my apartment. The stairs creak and groan, especially because we stop every third or fourth one for a kiss. I kiss her behind her ear, and she shivers. I file that away, knowing I’ll want to kiss her there again and find out if it elicits the same reaction.
She stops, turns, and plants a kiss on my lips. I nearly tumble backward because it’s that powerful, and it goes to my head.
I steady myself. “I almost fell.”
“You better not fall down the steps,” she says.
“Get your ass up to my floor then, and stop distracting me from . . . walking.” I smack her ass.
“Far be it from me to distract you with my rear end.”
“It’s a highly distracting ass.” We make it up a few more steps when I tug on her jeans. “Just testing to see how quickly they come off.”
“Why don’t you find out once we’re in your apartment?”
She’s been here before. We’ve done the whole Webflix-and-chill thing. But we legit watched That’s What She Said. Tonight, I’m pretty sure there’s no Webflix ahead. Just chill.
Once we’re inside my apartment, I reach for her, slide my hand around her waist, and bring her close.
We’ve kissed before, but this time I know it’s not ending there. This time, I know we’ll be making it to the other room. We’ll find out what happens when friends turn into something more. It’s scary and thrilling to know someone so well and for it to suddenly, or maybe not so suddenly at all, zoom to the next level.
I clasp my hands on her face and kiss her deeply, exploring her mouth, taking my time. As I do, I’m struck with a thought from out of left field.
I’ll have a lifetime of kissing her.
Whoa.
I don’t know why my brain leaped to that thought. I try to shake it off, because now isn’t the time for contemplating futures and forevers.
But the thought stays in the back of my mind.
Or maybe it was there already, and now it’s in the front of my head.
I can’t let it go. Can’t unsee it. Can’t unfeel it.
Because this seems like the kind of kiss that won’t end, that’ll lead to more nights and days together.
This kiss feels like the start of our life together.
And I’d like it to include lots of kissing.
We find a rhythm quickly, a cocktail mix of soft and slow, then hard and fast, then deep and sweet. So damn sweet. I tug on the waistband of her jeans, breaking the kiss. “Okay, now I mean it. We need to get these off right now.”
“You need to get me off right now,” she says in a husky whisper.
I groan in appreciation, amazed that Savannah has this dirty piece to her. “I like learning this side of you.”
She runs a hand up my chest, sending heat down my spine. “I like learning your sides too.”
Once we’re in the bedroom, we make quick work of our clothes. Seeing her stripped bare sends me from rock hard to rock harder.
Judging from the way her eyes roam over my body, she likes what she sees too. She places her hands on my pecs, then trails down my arms and back up to my face. “You’re totally fucking hot.”
“And totally fucking ready.”
She slides her hand down my abs and grasps my erection. I close my eyes and shudder.
“That feels spectacular,” she whispers.