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But it does… because it’s not real, and I’m not really his.

Right when I start to get so lost in Quinn’s dizzying, powerful kiss that I seriously contemplate stripping naked out here under the moonlight, he yanks his mouth away from mine, making me let out a pitiful little whimper.

He’s still tightly gripping my face in his hands, and when I slowly open my eyes, Quinn is panting just as hard as I am, with his eyes glued to my mouth. My entire body shivers when he lets out another low, rumbling groan from deep in his chest when my tongue darts out to wet my now-dry lips from trying to get my breathing back under control. My sanity is completely gone at this point when I can still taste him on my lips, still feel the heat and heaviness of his tongue in my mouth and the rugged scratching of his unshaven face as he moved his mouth against mine.

“There. That should make it feel more real,” Quinn speaks in a low, hoarse voice. I hold my breath when his face moves slowly back down to mine, hoping to God he plans on putting his mouth back on me. But he just drops one hand from my face and replaces it with his cheek, putting his mouth right by my ear and lowering his voice to a whisper. “Believe me… you will never need to fake anything with me.”

My breath hitches in my throat when thoughts of hair pulling and orgasmic bliss invade my brain as he drops his other hand from my face. All that heat he spread through my body disappears in an instant when he takes a step back, my hands letting go of the tight grip I still had on his shirt and falling to my sides.

As he lets out a slow breath and runs one hand through his messy locks, for just one second, I wonder if he’s having as much trouble recovering from that kiss as I am. My knees are threatening to give out, I need a change of underwear, and my heart is racing so fast I feel like I might have a heart attack. But this maddening man just tips the corner of his mouth up until I can see his damn, smirking dimple.

“You okay now?”

Okay? I’m anything but okay! I might be in a coma. I should check my pulse… and going by the stupid humor in his voice, he knows damn well I’m not okay!

In just a few minutes of kissing, he equally calmed me down and threw me into a tailspin. But the cheerleader in me quickly comes back to life, and I remember who the hell I am. And I remember that I don’t lose at anything.

Pasting a smile on my face, I vow to win the game of who can be the most calm and cool, and I pretend like that kiss was no big deal. If he can do it, so can I. And if the past is anything to go by, I’ll definitely come out of this victorious; I just need to be confident.

“Oh, I’m great! How about you?” I fire back sweetly.

“Fine. Just fine.” Quinn nods and smiles, his eyes giving him away when they flicker down to my lips when I wet them again. I do a little silent cheer in my head when I see his throat bob as he swallows a few times and then clears his throat before his eyes dart back up to mine. “We should probably head inside. I think your parents know we’re here. Or that light is just having a stroke.”

He points to the rapidly blinking decorative lamp post my parents have in the middle of the yard that started going crazy a few seconds ago, flashing off and on repeatedly.

“Yeah, that’s my mom’s universal sign for ‘I know you’re here, but take your time coming in, because I haven’t fluffed all the pillows or lit all the scented candles in every room to impress our guest,’” I tell Quinn as he steps back up to me, grabbing one of my hands and lacing his fingers through mine.

Bringing my hand up to his mouth, he kisses the top of it, throwing me completely off my game with how natural he makes this seem, like he does it all the time. He holds his lips against the top of my hand just long enough for my brain to short-circuit, remembering that those warm, wet lips were just inhaling me mere moments ago. Dropping our joined hands back down by his side before I pass out, Quinn starts tugging me up the driveway.

“And here I thought your mom was maybe just inviting the whole neighborhood to a rave.” He smiles down at me as we make our way past the flashing light and onto the walkway that leads to their front porch.


Tags: Tara Sivec Summersweet Island Romance