Rush (Gods #2)(21)

But it is happening.

Holy hell, it's happening.

It's his tongue sweeping my bottom lip before slipping into my mouth. His hands on my face.

It's everything I imagined and more.

I know there's the stupid, gimmicky romance trope of feeling electricity  and butterflies, but, God, his mouth on mine is all of those things and  more.

My whole body is aware of his in a way I've never experienced before.

Maybe I haven't felt this way before because I was drinking. I always  thought it brought my senses to life, but maybe it was dulling them.

Or maybe it is just him.

Because this, being here with Ares … this feeling, right here, this is what it's like to feel alive.

One hand leaves my face and pulls my hair free of the tie. The other hand slides down until it's cupping my chin.

His kiss slows. Lips brushing once … twice.

Hot breath on my skin.                       
       
           



       

I open my eyes. His are on mine, hot and dilated.

"Do you understand now?" His voice is gravelly and oh-so very sexy, making my womanly parts tremble.

A grin pulls up one side of my mouth. "I'm starting to. But I think I  need you to tell me again. But more thoroughly this time." I tug his  mouth back down to mine and feel his smile against my lips, and it's the  greatest thing ever.

Two very large hands slide down my back, cup my ass, and pick me up,  setting me on the windowsill. My back is pressed against the glass. He's  in front of me. And there's nowhere else I would want to be right now.

"That's better," he murmurs against my lips, shifting closer, putting himself between my legs. "You're so small."

Something very hard and very large presses up against my stomach.

Sweet Lord, that's one hell of a boner he's rocking there.

"You're big."

Jesus effing Christ.

I mentally roll my eyes so hard; I almost give myself a headache.

"Thank you." He chuckles into my mouth.

"I meant, height."

"Of course you did."

"But you do seem big … down there."

"I am."

Well, there you go.

His hand slides up my side, brushing the underside of my breast, making me moan.

My hands go to his chest.

Holy shit.

Rock-hard muscle beneath smooth skin.

He's hard everywhere.

And I am a lucky, lucky girl.

I run my fingertips through the smattering of hair on his chest, tracing one of his nipples, and he shivers.

Then, he kisses me harder. One hand plunges into my hair, tilting my  head back, taking control of the kiss, and I am more than willing to let  him take over. The other hand skims the hem of my T-shirt, fingers  running under the hem, brushing against my skin, making it my turn to  shiver.

I slide my hands around his back and down to his ass and squeeze.

He has a great ass. A really, really great ass. It's as firm as it looks.

His fingers are still teasing the skin of my stomach, driving me crazy.

I want him to touch me. Everywhere.

"Touch me, please," I whisper.

He groans, biting down on my bottom lip before licking the sting away,  as his hand finds its way up my shirt and cups my breast over my bra.

The first brush of his thumb over my nipple has my hips pushing forward,  seeking pressure, which he willingly gives me, pressing his dick  against me. Then, he starts to move his hips, thrusting up and down.

Well, this went from naught to a hundred pretty quickly.

Not that I'm complaining.

"Fuck," he chokes out as we start dry-humping the shit out of each other. "You feel so fucking good."

His hand has now left my hair and is gripping my hip, fingers digging in  me in the most delicious way, holding me in place. I'm just holding on  to him for dear life. The feelings running through me right now are  indescribable.

"You're incredible, Ari. So goddamn beautiful. But we have to stop."

"Wha … " I manage to get out as he wrenches away from me.

He's back against the counter, hands gripping the edge, like he's afraid to let go, chest heavy with breaths.

And I'm panting like a dog in heat. Legs trembling. Body in an outcry at his absence.

Shit, does he regret what just happened?

"No, I don't regret it," he says like he just read my mind.

"I never said anything," I counter innocently.

"I could read it all over your face."

Okay. So, maybe I'm easy to read at times.

"So … why'd you stop?" I ask quietly.

"Because I was about three seconds away from fucking you on my  windowsill, and the first time we do this … have sex … I want you to be a  hundred percent with me."

"I am a hundred percent with you." I think I always have been.

"Glad to hear it. But you've had one hell of a day, babe. And, when we  do this, the only thing I want you thinking about is me, you, and the  way I'm making you feel. And call me old-fashioned, but I'd kinda like  to take you out on a date before we get to the sex."

I can't contain my smile. He wants to take me out on a date.

"Okay. And when will this date take place?"

"Tomorrow night, if you're free. The Big Lebowski is showing again. I  was thinking I could take you out for dinner and then to the movies."

A date with Ares Kincaid. Who'd have thought it?

"I'm free." Even if I weren't, I'd cancel my plans for him. "But, just  so I'm clear on this … it's just the one date before we get to the  fucking?"

He laughs, and it's deep and throaty; it lights me up inside.                       
       
           



       

"What do you think?"

I think I'm getting laid tomorrow night.





Ares has seen me soaking wet, wearing only a bra and pants. He's seen me in just a towel, for God's sake.

So, why is it taking me forever to decide what to wear for our date? Which he's picking me up for in fifteen minutes.

Argh!

Because this is different. You're actually going out on a date. There's going to be more kissing. And then later, sex.

Holy cannoli!

I honestly still can't believe this is happening.

That he likes me. That he wants me in this way.

It's crazy. The best kind of crazy.

I don't know what changed his mind or when he realized that his feelings  for me were more than just friends, but I don't care. Because he wants  me.

Okay, maybe I care a little.

I know how he feels about alcoholics. And I still am one.

But I just need to not focus on that right now. I need to focus on what to wear.

I turn back to my closet.

Okay, so we're going for an early dinner and then to the cinema. So, nothing too dressy.

Pants maybe?

I rifle through my closet and pull out my white ripped jeans. I could wear these.

What with?

I rummage through my tops and pull out my loose, silky bright blue tank top. The color reminds me of Ares's eyes. Perfect.

I go to my underwear drawer and get out my nicest white lacy underwear. I'm going for virginal.

Ha! Like that's even a remote possibility.

But the white will go better under my clothes.

So, white it is.

I take off my robe and put my underwear on, remembering just why I love  this bra because of the boost it gives to my boobs. It makes them look  fuller and gives me nice cleavage, which will look good with this tank.

I pull my jeans on. Put the tank on.

I decide on my highest black heels. I need the height with this guy.

I put on my gold chain, which sits nicely in my cleavage, bringing the eye to it.

I spritz my favorite perfume, J'adore, on my neck, wrists, and onto my  already-done hair, which is down and curled around my shoulders. My  makeup is on and light. Focus being on my lips, which are painted with  my new favorite lipstick shade, Matte Raspberry.

I've just put my lipstick, wallet, and cell into my bag when there's a knock at my door.

He's here.

My heart takes off at a rapid pace.

I take my bag with me into the living room, grab my leather jacket and slip it on, and then open the door.

Hells bells, he looks good.

I mean, he always looks good, but this … is something different.

He's dressed up-not that he normally looks scruffy, but he's clearly  made an effort. His hair is styled. His jaw is clean-shaven. He's  wearing a dark gray blazer with a black button-down shirt beneath it,  dark blue jeans, and black biker boots on his feet.

Maybe he looks different to me because I'm looking at him through new eyes now.

I'm looking at him as more than a friend.

I get to kiss this guy.

I'm quite likely going to see him naked later and do all the good stuff with him.

That definitely changes everything, like how I now view him.

"Hi," he says, voice deep and raspy. "You look beautiful, Ari."

"So do you. Hot. Gorgeous, I mean." For fuck's sake.

He chuckles and then leans down and presses his lips to mine, tongue ever so lightly coming out to touch mine.

"Mmm," he murmurs. "You taste good, too."

He's going to kill me, I swear.

"You sure you don't want to skip the date and just get to the sex?"

He laughs a throaty sound, and I have to squeeze my thighs together.