Page 30 of Flawed (Ethan Frost 4)

And then I kiss him with all the passion and pent-up fury of those emotions, my lips moving on his as I empty everything that I’m feeling—everything that I am in this moment—straight into him.

Chapter 10

Miles

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

At first that’s all I can think as Tori grabs on to me. As her hands tangle in my hair and her mouth all but devours mine. But once the shock wears off, I get caught up in the taste, the smell, the feel of her. Because, holy shit, does she taste good. Smell good. Feel good. Like cinnamon and vanilla all rolled up in one soft, sweet package.

I’m just getting into it when she starts to pull away, and I’m having none of it. My arms wrap around her of their own volition and then I’m turning her—turning us—so that her back is pressed up against the house and I’m pressed up against her.

I deepen the kiss, my tongue sweeping into her mouth, teasing, taunting, tangling with hers. She moans a little, her fingers tightening in my hair until tiny pinpricks of pain spring up along my skull. It doesn’t bother me—in fact, it turns me on even more—but it does send a warning flag up in my head and I pause for a moment, pulling away just far enough to look into her eyes. To make sure she’s okay with this. She might have been the one who initiated it, but I’m the one who took it so deep, so fast, and after everything that’s happened today the last thing I want to do is make her feel like anything else about her body is out of her control.

But her eyes are wide, her pupils already wide and blown out, and when she clutches at me, tries to pull me closer again, any idea I have of backing away totally disappears. Not when she is obviously as affected by this as I am.

So instead of letting her go, I cup her face in my hands, stroke my thumbs over her jaw and down her throat to the hollows just above her collarbone. I can feel her pulse beating there, fast and wild, just under the delicate softness of her skin. It turns me on even more, has my dick hardening and my body craving another taste of her.

Has me craving more, more, more.

Has me craving anything, everything, that she’s willing to give me.

Wrapped up in her now—wrapped up in this—I lean down, start to take her mouth with mine again. But she beats me to it, yanking me down until our mouths all but slam together.

It’s wicked and wild and carnal, the kind of kiss you see in movies or read about in books, where the whole world ceases to exist—where everything ceases to exist—except this one person. This one kiss. This one tangle of tongues and bodies and sensations.

It goes on and on and on, tongues sliding against each other, teeth nipping at delicate lips, hands skimming over skin turned hot and sensitive. She’s breathing heavily now—we both are—and still I don’t pull away. Still I don’t let up. And neither does she.

Instead her teeth close on my bottom lip hard enough to sting before she soothes it away with a few gentle strokes of her tongue. She does it again and again, until my head is muddled and my whole goddamn body is in sensory overload.

; I want to touch her, want to slide a hand under her shirt and cup her breast in my palm. Want to pinch her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Want to thrust two fingers deep inside her and hear her whimper as she comes. But this is just our first kiss and it’s come out of nowhere on the heels of one of the most difficult days of her life.

It’s that thought more than any other that has me pulling back, that has me resting my forehead against hers and my hands safely on her waist as we both gasp for air.

“What was that?” Tori finally asks, eyes wide and voice more than a little shaky.

I pull back with a grin. “You tell me. You’re the one who kissed me, after all.”

She laughs a little, then pushes at my shoulders until I reluctantly step back. “It was a thank-you kiss.”

“Oh yeah?” I follow her as she starts through the doors that lead back into the kitchen. I only let her get a few steps before I grab her hand and spin her back around to face me. “I’m not sure what I’m being thanked for, but I’ll take it. In fact, want to thank me again?”

I lower my lips to hers with the plan of stealing another quick kiss. I expect her to shove me back, maybe even smack me—it wouldn’t be the first time Tori’s taken a swing at me considering how protective she is of Chloe. But in the end she does neither. Instead she lets me kiss her. More, she kisses me back. And though the kiss isn’t as deep or as sensual as what we shared on the patio, there’s something intensely satisfying in feeling her lips curve into a smile against my own.

This time, she’s the one who pulls away first. I watch as she makes her way toward the fridge, where she starts to pull out a bunch of the random vegetables that I tend to collect when I shop, all with some vague idea of making something delicious with them. More often than not, they stay in there until Chloe comes back to visit and finally uses them in some recipe or another. I might be a world-class inventor, but a chef I am not.

Still, I feel honor-bound to ask, “Do you need some help?” as she starts washing a bunch of broccolini under the tap.

“That’s okay.” She shoots me a look. “I’ve seen your culinary skills before.”

“Hey, I can follow a recipe as well as the next guy.”

“Yeah, if the next guy is blind and missing his opposable thumbs.” She puts the broccolini on the center island’s butcher-block top, then starts washing some mushrooms and asparagus.

“I resent that.”

“Resent it all you want.” She reaches over and taps a wet hand against my cheek. “Truth is truth. The last time you cooked a meal I was invited to, I nearly chipped a tooth on your hamburgers.”