“Wolfe? Oh, God, what are we doing? That feels so good.”
His brain exploded. He swiped his tongue to the vulnerable curve under her cheek, opened his mouth, and bit.
Her body shuddered. She grabbed his face with shaking hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. Drugged blue eyes stared back at him. Her breath came out in uneven pants from her plump lips. She was so damn honest in her responses, so willing to give him whatever he needed. “Why am I feeling like this?” she whispered, clinging with a feminine strength he found sexy as hell. “What are you doing to me?”
“Don’t know. Same thing you’re doing to me.” He stared at her mouth, so close, so moist. “I want to kiss you.”
“Oh yes. Just this once. Yes.”
He didn’t wait a second longer. Just lowered his head and captured her lips. Slid over and into the slick, sweet cave, thrusting his tongue with slow, languid motions, deflowering her completely. He leaned against the tree trunk and hitched her higher, until her legs wrapped around his hips. Her taste swamped him, driving him to capture the very essence of her mouth, refusing to let her keep anything back.
She didn’t. Hanging tight, she melted in his arms and surrendered completely. Her body heat engulfed him, licking flames of fire that drove him mad for more. He couldn’t remember when a kiss had stolen his breath and sanity, but nothing mattered except the need to rip her clothes off, taste her everywhere, give her pleasure. Using his teeth to scrape against her bottom lip, he captured her needy moan and worked his hips in a slow, grinding thrust. She ripped her mouth off his and panted, digging her nails deep into his shoulders. She tilted her head back so he saw the wetness on her swollen lips.
“Feels too good,” she panted. “Give me more.”
Oh yeah.
He moved quickly, turning her so her back pressed against the rough bark of the tree. Losing his head completely, he forgot he was in a public park, forgot she was his best friend and sex wasn’t an option, forgot everything except getting closer and deeper into her until he faded away.
He took her mouth again, bruising, but she kissed him back with such raw hunger and need, Wolfe shook. He gripped her head and pulled her hair, notched into the center of her thighs, and gave it all to her with everything he got.
She was wild in his arms, biting and licking back, arching up for more, until the simple kiss burned barriers and exploded out of control. Wolfe dimly heard the song ending and the smattering of applause. Low chatter and movement finally cut through the fog.
He lifted his head. Froze. Dragging in a breath, chest tight, dick so hard and swollen it could be registered as a deadly weapon, he fought for sanity.
She opened her eyes. Her pupils were dilated. When she spoke, her words came out slurred. “Wh—what happened?”
Holy shit, he did it again. The awful Britney Spears pop song clanged loudly in his head. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself this time. What type of friend was he? She was vulnerable right now. Needy. He had to suck it up, get himself under control, and be the supportive buddy she deserved.
But how would he ever look at her again without wanting to kiss her?
“Wolfe?” She blinked. “What’s wrong?”
He forced a smile and slowly lowered her back to the ground. Her breasts dragged over his chest and almost caused him to weep. “Song’s over.” His voice came out a bit rough, so he softened the words by running a finger down her cheek. She seemed to catch his unease, and an awkward silence descended as the lead singer spoke her gratitude. Everyone clapped and began to gather their stuff, trudging out of the park. He was left with a hard-on and a cloud of confusion as he tried to decide the best route to take.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Sure.” This time he didn’t take her hand. They didn’t speak. The shops were closed, the stars twinkled overhead, and their shoes clopped on the pavement. Halfway home, she finally broke. “I’d like to say I’m sorry but I’m not.”
He bit back a laugh. She was always so . . . unexpected. Honest. Once again, he vowed not to destroy the most precious relationship he had. “I’m not either, sweetheart. I am sorry if we blurred the line though. Our friendship means more to me than some raging hormones. Maybe the lead singer did it. She kinda reminds me of Pink.”
The joke fell flat and her smile seemed forced. “Right. We got caught up in a moment.”
“This weekend will be good for us. We’ll both start dating again, and release some of the pressure.”
Why did her shoulders suddenly slump? He thought mentioning her date would ease her mind. He had no right to screw with her head and get her to want more.