For every thrust against her, Keira gave two. With Kona’s strong hands pulling her against him, Keira scratched across his skin and the dance played on, harder, fiercer, shedding logic or caution.
Push.
Pull.
Give.
Take.
Their sounds filled the empty hallway; moans and grunts, breaths held and released, lips sucking, all became a cacophony of sounds that announced the break of resistance and the end of denial.
Kona lifted her up, pressed her against the wall and some primal urge directed her, had her slipping her legs around his waist, skirt rising up her thighs and Keira didn’t care that they could be discovered. The idea of someone catching them, in fact, made her wetter, had her clawing at Kona tighter.
“God… oh God,” she said when Kona grabbed her ass, when she felt the thick, brutal outline of his dick jutting against her. She craved that touch, the weight and girth of what waited for her, his hot, heavy breath on her skin, of his wide, perfect tongue slipping in her mouth. Kona was large, too large and consuming, his weight too heavy against her chest, his fingers too tight against her nipples and Keira pulled back, gasping from the overwhelming sensation. “I can’t breathe.”
“I got plenty breath for the both of us.”
He didn’t stop, didn’t slow and Keira felt both drunk and consumed, more turned on than she’d ever been in her life, and at that moment all she wanted was Kona’s skin on hers, the smell of his sweat, the heat of his body covering her.
Dizziness came to her, made the air around her confining and she pulled her mouth from his, needing a moment to breathe air that did not taste and smell of Kona to keep from drowning. “Wait.”
His grunt was deep, frustrated, but Kona pulled back, chest in a heavy pant, his forehead on her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. And in that moment the old Keira gained a toe-hold, and she let reason slip back in between the raging, dark thoughts. “What the hell are we doing?” He looked up at her and she gasped at the claw marks on his neck and the angry scratch on his chin. When had she done that? “Oh God. What… what the hell are we doing?”
“Keira, it’s been coming for weeks. You know that.”
“This is stupid. This, I’m not… this isn’t me.”
“No. It’s not.” Kona pulled her legs from his waist and his hands moved back to her face. His voice was level, calm. “This is you with me.”
Instinct had her retreating. She had groped Kona in the middle of a strange hallway where anyone could see them. She had left Mark downstairs waiting and Leann likely worrying about how she’d get home. She’d attacked Kona, got turned on - so very turned on - by the scratches and slaps she leveled at him. She let him touch her. She let him grip her. These were not the actions of a sane person. And the fear of what she had done, of what she had allowed herself to do, crowded deep in her mind, had Keira taking too many breaths, shifting too far away from Kona’s reaching arms.
“I have to go.”
“Why? Going to find your date?”
“No, I’m just getting away from you.”
His arms came around her waist when she made for the elevator. “Don’t act like being with me would be a bad thing.” His chest felt wide, edges and dips that she couldn’t help leaning against. “Don’t act like you don’t want me.” She didn’t bother arguing, resisting the wet path he made against her neck with his lips. “I’m not like this, not usually. Only with you. You’re in my head too much. The smell of your hair, the way you taste, your nerdy jokes. I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s driving me stupid.”
“I told you, Kona,” she said, looking up at him. “I don’t do hook ups. I’m not Tonya.”
Kona winced and Keira took a step forward, needing not to see that expression. “I know you’re not and I’m glad you’re not her.” He took her hand, pulled her around so she could see his eyes. “There isn’t anyone like you, Wildcat. No one, and I have no idea what that means, but I wanna find out.” When Kona moved his hands down her back, Keira could only think of tasting his full lips and the airy breath on her tongue again. “Let me, will you? Don’t walk away.”
She knew how easy saying yes would be. Kona was hard to reject, but Keira didn’t trust whatever was happening between them. It felt too foreign, too thick. “I… I can’t. Not with you, Kona. I’m not…”
“This about Tonya still? You think I’m into her.” He looked up at the ceiling, stretching his neck. “I’m not,” he said, staring back at her. “I’m not into anyone. You can’t hold that against me forever.”