Thin Love(59)

She made a noise that sounded like a song to Kona; low, sensual groans as his hands moved up her ribs, as his kisses and licks against her back and neck deepened. Her skin became a sheet of goose pimples that Kona tried to smooth down with his tongue and Keira pressed against him, groans elevating into sounds that were higher, sounds that told Kona she liked how he touched her. And when he couldn’t control his hands, when they came up to cup her breasts, those sounds Keira made were like a symphony; glorious, intoxicating music that made Kona brush his thumbs against her nipples, made him pinch down on them until she was gasping, until she moved her ass against his hard dick.

“Kona… God…” She turned, arms sliding around his neck and Keira kissed him, frantic, eager, tongue immediately separating his lips, then working against his. “Make me buzz,” she said, between kisses, “make my whole body buzz.”

And Kona realized, in that moment, with Keira’s sweet body and provocative scent making him high, making him so drunk on her, that he would do anything she asked. He’d make her skin sing, just to have her touch him the way she was then, just to hear the happy moan shooting out of her mouth like a melody.

Instinct took over and he picked her up, hands on her ass, directing her legs around him. “I’ll make you buzz, Wildcat.”

Her purse and keys fell to the floor when he laid her on the bed, their hips pushing against each other. Kona knew what she wanted, what she needed. He’d experienced enough moments like this in the three years since he’d been fucking anything that would have him. Senior year of high school had been amazing. Freshman year had made him an expert. This sophomore semester and all of this was old hat. So he knew how to touch a girl to make those moans come quick and easy. He knew where to kiss, how fast to move his fingers, his tongue, so that a girl called his name like a chant.

Kona had moves, practiced, tested moves, and he meant to use them just then. He meant to kiss Keira’s neck, slide his hands in her hair as he attacked behind her ear, down to the slope of her shoulder. Then, he meant to get her out of her clothes, move her knees apart, and slip inside her. Those were Kona’s moves. Usually. That’s what he’d figured out worked best when the girl he was with was anxious, eager to get there.

But Keira Riley was not most girls. Keira was blunt and wild and angry. Keira was beautiful and smart and funny. Keira had crawled into Kona’s brain, separated herself from the memory of everyone he’d ever touched until she became the bright, shining spot among the faceless masses. He could not touch Keira like he had every other girl. She was special.

When she moved her knees in, pulling him closer to her and Kona could feel that sweet, hot warmth rubbing against his dick, he jerked back, wanting to slow down, wanting every touch to be different, to be just for her. He needed to feel her, needed her beautiful blue eyes looking at him, seeing him when he touched her. This was too fast. This was too practiced and with Keira, Kona didn’t want speed and quick release. He wanted all of her.

Damnit. How had that happened?

“Wait,” he said, taking her arms away from his shoulders before he sat up. “Hang on.”

Keira followed him, lips on his neck, fingers tugging his hair. “What’s wrong?” she said between bites to his ear.

“We have to stop.”

“What?” She slid back, resting against the headboard. “Why?”

Kona didn’t know how to explain himself. How do you tell a woman who clearly wants you, who you clearly want, that you want to take your time with her? That you don’t want the moment over too quickly? Eyes shifting to her face, Kona felt like Keira had sucker punched him. That expression transformed instantly, working from confusion to anger before he could blink twice.

“We need to slow down.”

Kona wished he could read her mind. Most of the time, he didn’t need to; whatever Keira was thinking was typically written on her face in the way her big eyes narrowed to small slits or how those full lips pinched tight like a corkscrew. But, Kona had noticed in the past few weeks that Keira had learned to guard her expressions around him. She’d learned how to hold back and hide at least some of what she was thinking. He didn’t like it and he especially didn’t like the frown she gave him then, how she pulled her knees to her chest like she was trying to keep him away from her.

“I get it.” Kona thought she really didn’t. That frown on her face hardened, dipped so that there were barely noticeable lines around the corners of her mouth. “It’s fine.” He reached for her when she left the bed, but Keira was fast, slight and she moved quickly to the door. “I’ll see you later,” she said, hand on the doorknob.