Shit, even hearing the word come out of his own mouth like that turned him on more. He was really past the point of no return, now. A mildly stiff breeze probably could’ve turned him on in that state.
She drew back a little and he prepared himself for the anger she was certainly going to– rightfully– throw his way for letting himself get aroused while she cried on his shoulder.
But that wasn’t what happened. Instead, she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his.
It only took him a millisecond to get over the shock and kiss her back. The feeling was familiar and new all at the same time, and so mind-bogglingly amazing that he could barely stay on his feet. It shook through him like an earthquake, rocking him to the very core.
He slid his hands up and down her body, taking in those delicate curves, retracing lines on the map that had been his first guide to what a woman was.
He did manage to pull back just long enough to ask, “Are you sure, Luna? Are you really sure this is what you want right now?”
She lifted her hand to his face and drew her fingertips down along his jawline. Her breath was coming hard and fast. Her cheeks were flushed, and the way her fingers shook as she touched him made him think that the earthquake rocking her had to be just as powerful in magnitude as the one sending shocks through him.
She tilted her head a little to the side and squinted just the tiniest bit as she studied his face.
Fuck! He’d forgotten about that adorable habit of hers. It made her look like a cartoon rabbit trying to figure out the solution to a problem, and his heart melted all over again, for the hundredth time that morning.
She gave him a sardonic little smile then, and nodded. “God, yes, Connor. It’s not just what I want. I think it’s what I need.”
As soon as she uttered those words, all bets were off. He gave in to the roaring monster of lust, stopped trying to cage it and simply let it run wild.
Wrapping up the fabric of her shirt in his fist, he ripped it off over her head. Her eyes widened and she bit her lower lip as her hair fluttered back into place. Oh, God. Another adorable mannerism of hers that he’d completely forgotten about– that cute-as-hell lip-biting thing she did.
His eyes fixated on those lips and he had to kiss them. He couldn’t wait another second.
Leaning his head down, he crushed his lips to hers, moving them passionately. She responded the same way, her lips pressed to his with the same fervor, moving to the same rhythm. Their tongues dance and played. He couldn’t remember the last time a kiss had knocked him on his ass like this one was. Hell, it was probably the last time he’d kissed Luna, if he was honest.
He moved his hands over the bare skin of her torso, drinking in the soft and smooth surface. His rough hands were such a distinct contrast. It brought their differences into stark relief: her, the lovely, sweet flower and him the rough but solid rock.
He wrapped his hands firmly around her waist and lifted her up off her feet, the movement both swift and sudden. She drew in a sharp breath, which he felt because their lips were still pressed together. It sent a rocket of sensation running all the way down his spine.
He turned and set Luna down on the hood of the car and then stepped immediately in between her knees so that their bodies were pressed together again.
Even those few seconds that they’d been separated while he lifted her up on the car had been torture for him. Now that he’d felt her against him again after all this time, he wasn’t going to give that up easily.
“Yes,” she murmured. “Oh, God, Connor. Yes. Please. Make me forget. I just want to forget.”
He didn’t know what exactly she wanted to forget, whether it was the stress of her grandfather’s hospitalization, or the years of separation and distance between them. Either way, he was happy to help. Hell, if it was the second one, he definitely wanted to forget that, too. He’d be helping both of them.
Kissing his way down her neck, Connor couldn’t get enough of the smell of her perfume, the warmth of her skin against his lips. She was fucking intoxicating. She was a wet dream come to life.
Using one hand, he unsnapped her bra and slipped it off her shoulders. He stared at her breasts, so creamy and full, tipped by hard nipples. Fuck. She was so beautiful. An angel. A goddess. How had he ever gotten so lucky? What could he have ever done to deserve her?
He lowered his head to them, then, taking those hard pink buds into his mouth, one after the other. He swirled his tongue around them, running his hands up and down her back as he did. Her muscles bunched and tensed under his hands. Her back arched, driving her breasts harder against him, and he increased the suction he applied.
Everything about this should’ve felt wrong. He knew that in a corner of his mind. The suddenness. The shed. The unresolved God damn issues. But none of that mattered. It felt one hundred percent right. In fact, it made it seem like the last ten years had been muted, in black and white. Just a limbo period, a waiting game until she came back into his life and exploded it into vibrant color again.
He knew that kind of thinking was dangerous. He’d worked so hard to spackle over the holes she’d left in his heart so that it would at least semi function again. Putting all that in jeopardy was reckless, to say the least. Potentially disastrous.
He didn’t fucking care. She was in his arms right now, her body warm and vibrant, and that was all that mattered. His world had shrunk to the size of her naked skin, his mouth, her body, his hands.
She’d started out by asking him to make her forget. It had definitely worked both ways. He was forgetting everything outside the confines of these four makeshift walls, and loving every damn minute of it.