Fucking hell. I want more. Of course, I want more. That was his plan all along. I drop my suitcases, my tote bags—all of them tumble to the floor as I curse and roll up on the balls of my feet to kiss him back.
It’s so forceful he has to let go of my face to let me take what I want. Almost angrily, I fist the front of his shirt. I need to pull him closer, taste him, smell him. Just need to feel something before…before I leave for good or before my life ends.
We break away from the kiss, which must have gone on for longer than what my pounding heart measured because his face is flushed and his lips swollen.
“There was your goodbye kiss,” I say, trying to gulp down a panting breath.
Ozzie’s brows come together. His silvery eyes have darkened, and his expression is primal. “More,” he says with a growl.
Why? Why does that caveman shit do things to me? Fuck. There’s no time to examine the psychology of that.
“Y-you said one goodbye kiss,” I answer meekly.
His jaw tics. His ears are burning red. His nostrils flare. “I want more. Don’t you?”
I have so much to say, but all I get out is a tremulous, “What? What do you want from me, Ozzie?”
My pussy weeps at the sight of him scraping his hand through his hair, jaw set, and teeth gritted. “Everything. I lied before. I want to take you to bed and make you understand how good we can be together. I want one night. One night of real kisses, real touches. Face to face. No more lies.”
“Ozzie,” I start.
He growls low in his throat, his fingers trailing up and down my jawline. “I don’t want a goodbye kiss. I want you all to myself with no one around. I want a shot at convincing you to stay.”
It feels like every drop of my blood is elated at staying if Ozzie thinks it’s a good idea. My blood is stupid and reckless and selfish.
But why not? Just one night. No family around, no sorority sisters. No one assessing our couplehood. Just us.
After all, will Crypto show up tonight if he knows where I am? All the way from Jersey? Probably not?
“Just one night,” I squeak.
Ozzie sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me into his lap.
This pose reminds me of how much time I’d spent on his lap over the weekend, touching and innocently kissing, making sure everyone around us knew we were a couple.
No one is watching now.
Our kiss this time is wild and urgent.
“How do you know I’m not going to wait until you’re asleep to up and leave?” I ask.
Ozzie’s fingers graze over my brow bone lazily. I shiver in response. He angles his face and kisses my neck slowly once, twice, three times, until his lips come to the spot between my collarbones. I have to lift my chin to give him room and close my eyes. Ozzie speaks then, his lips feathering over the skin of my neck, his breath radiating heat that somehow reaches my core. “I assume that’s your next move. But I’m not worried.”
Another kiss to my throat, and my sex clamps down against a frustrating nothingness.
“And wh-why is that?” I stutter.
“Because I’m going to make you come so hard, so many times, you won’t be able to feel your legs.”
I gasp, and my nipples tighten. My clothes feel scratchy, uncomfortable, and too tight, and I want to get rid of them. My very bones are lava.
“Oh,” is the only thing I can say until his mouth claims mine again. He lifts me off his lap and sets me down on the mattress, and I can hardly explain how wonderful this feels to be with a man who can manhandle me like this. The weight of his body eases me back onto the pillows, and he crowds me. Yes. The overpowering presence of this man is the definition of comfort. No more hiding; I’m hiding in his affection.
The kiss deepens, his tongue angling inside my mouth, tasting and teasing with delicious swipes across my tongue. Wetness pools in my nethers, soaking my panties. I’m giving myself over to this man, to both of us, for tonight. And that will be that.