Thin Love(58)

“I want to try something.” Those long fingers smoothed down her face until Kona held her cheek in his hand. “I want to see if that was some fluke.”

“You want me to slap you again?” His smile relaxed her, had her shifting her shoulders deeper onto the seat.

“No. I wanna try soft with you. I wanna try sweet, to see if it’s the same, if it does the same thing to me.”

She couldn’t help herself. “What did it do to you, Kona?”

Keira loved the way his eyes shifted up, how a deep, hypnotizing groan vibrated in his throat as though just the thought of his body’s reaction to her had him aching. He moved in, a fraction of a lean, mouth nearly touching hers. “It made me want to go slow.” He kissed her then, just a peck that lingered before he pulled away. “And fast.” Another kiss, this one longer than the last. “It made me think I could only breathe if I was inside you.”

And then, Keira’s own throat vibrated with a groan, a slow working sound that lifted up, caught as Kona’s tongue, warm and deliciously wet, slid against hers. There was so much power, so much tenderness in every touch he gave her; a shuttering throb of sensation, of heat that made Keira lightheaded. He was demanding and for once Keira didn’t let the fear of being controlled scare her. For once, she just gave in and let Kona guide her, work in her something real and raw.

She felt Kona’s breath rising, hot and heavy against her cheek and loved that her fingers on his neck, pulling him deeper, had him moving faster, still slow, still calm, but desperate enough that his breathing became frantic, that his hands on her face, in her hair, shook.

She wanted this. Him. Her. Their touch, the magic in every brush of his fingers, the glide of his tongue, with her always. It was needy, desperate and she loved the white hot craving of him, of how her body reacted to him, how her heart hammered hard like an earthquake.

They kissed and touched—his mouth on her neck sucking, nibbling, her fingers in his hair, her teeth biting his ear—and before Keira even realized what was happening, the windows fogged over, advertising to anyone watching what was happening in that Camaro. And then suddenly, a loud bang on the hood and Keira’s eyes opened and Kona’s happy moan turned into a grunt of frustration at whatever jackass it was that had interrupted them as a joke, laughter ringing in their hasty retreat.

Kona sat back, sweat dotting his forehead, and Keira blinked, shot up in the seat and grabbed the door handle.

“Wait.” Kona leaned across the seat covering her hand to stop her from leaving. “Where are you going?”

His frown was almost funny, but the rounding of his eyes told Keira that her leaving that car would undo him. She twisted her wrist so that she could hold his fingers and then brushed that massive hand aside. “I’m going to my room, Kona.” She got out of the car and he sat staring at her, frown deeper, forehead wrinkled with tension. Keira bent down once she was out of the car, leaning forward to smile at him. “You coming or not?”





Kona felt like a punk. And he was, or at least he was acting like one, but Keira did something to him. She made him smile, made him laugh, she had him wanting to take her on dates. And he couldn’t stop touching her. That skin, that taste, the soft little sounds she made when he kissed her, it undid him, had him forgetting that he was just testing the waters, seeing where this thing with Keira would lead him.

Even the curve of her neck as she stood in front of the door to unlock it, had Kona’s chest feeling tight. She barely managed to slip her key in the lock and Kona couldn’t hold himself back. Keira smelled like heaven, all flowery and delicious and her body was a miracle, fine, strong lines, muscle and soft curves and he brushed her hair away to get to that body. Mouth on the smooth planes of neck, lips dragging against each bump, Kona felt her tremble against him.

“In… inside,” she managed, and then the door was open and they were alone.

She kept her back to him, movements slow, silent as she threw her purse and keys onto the bed. She wore dark jeans and a red, fitted shirt with a low back. Kona hadn’t been able to stop watching the small expanse of skin that peeked out of that shirt all night. He’d been dying to kiss her neck, her back, since she walked out ahead of him as they left her dorm earlier. Now it called to him, with her standing next to the bed, shoulders stiff and the appealing silhouette of her hour glass shape just feet from him. He couldn’t stop himself from coming behind her, from wrapping his arms around her waist so he was close enough to taste the scent of her on his tongue.

“I love this,” he said, moving her hair again to get to her neck. He pushed down her shirt and she didn’t object. “And this. Your back is sexy, Wildcat.” Keira moved her neck, giving him easy access to all that glorious skin and he felt her tremble again, arms shaking, hand lifting to his hair as he kissed between her shoulder blades.