His other hand went to the small of my back right before his head tilted and he closed the last few inches of space between us. A smile was still on his lips when his mouth pressed into mine. It was so damn tender and gentle, I would have turned into a pile of mush if I was capable of it. Then, as quickly as it had dropped to mine, his mouth drifted away.
I could have cried from the separation.
“That’s what,” he whispered against my lips.
That was a good answer. Both the verbal and nonverbal.
“That’s all?” I said with just enough inflection.
“No.” He pressed closer to me. “No, that’s not all.”
When his mouth covered mine again, it wasn’t so still and soft. It may have started out that way for the shortest moment, but before my eyes closed, Jesse’s lips polished and sucked at mine like nothing I’d yet experienced. In addition to his other forms of divinity, the man was a kissing God.
His hand on my neck kneaded the muscles at the base of it as his thumb continued to skim lazy lines just under my collar. The hand on my lower back, remarkably, stayed where it was. Instead of grabbing the hem of my shirt to tug it over my head, instead of skimming under in search of my chest, his hand stayed in place. Holding onto me like I grounded him. Or like he grounded me. With the way he was kissing me, I couldn’t be sure.
It was positively the best kiss I’d ever had the privilege of being on the other end of, but my body craved more. My inner thighs were squeezed so tightly together, they started to tremble, and I knew the rest of my body wasn’t far behind.
I rose in place and shifted until I swung my leg over Jesse’s lap. When I lowered myself over him, his grip tightened and his breathing picked up. Never, in even my most fantastical dreams, had I ever had the courage to imagine that one day I’d straddle Jesse Walker while we kissed like it was the only thing keeping us alive. Never once. Yet here I was. Living it.
When Jesse’s lips dropped to my neck, I tilted my head back and pressed harder against him. I didn’t stop pressing closer until I felt his chest thumping hard against mine. I didn’t stop until I felt his breathing pick up yet again. I didn’t stop until he was fitted so hard between my legs I knew if I were to slide up or down, I’d come undone instantly.
So instead, I ran my hands up his wide arms and didn’t stop until they were combing and tugging through his hair. What I wanted to touch more, his hair or his body, had been a toss-up before. After doing both, I could confidently say neither had let me down. The debate was still out on which I preferred to touch though.
Moving my hands down the base of his neck, I continued toward the center of his back, tracing the deep seam that ran into his shorts. Jesse sighed against my neck when my hands repeated the motion. I didn’t know how he could sigh because I was one slide away from screaming out. Waking the house would be a really bad thing. For them and for us.
As soon as Jesse’s lips left my neck, my hands clutched the hem of my shirt and started sliding it up my stomach. I appreciated the whole gentleman thing he was keeping with, but the clothing was really starting to get in the way of things.
“Whoa,” Jesse said suddenly, his voice strained. “Easy, tiger. I’m about to go into cardiac arrest with your shirt on.” Jesse’s hands fitted over mine and moved them back down into my lap, shifting the shirt down at the same time. “Let’s leave it where it is, okay?”
If I woke up tomorrow speaking a different language, I don’t think I would have been more confused. “You don’t want to go any farther?” My voice was just as breathless as his. “You just want to kiss?” Surely I was misunderstanding something. As good as the kissing was, and believe me, it was the kind of thing people wrote songs about, even I wanted to go farther. My body felt like it needed to. It was programmed to do so.
“Well, I’d like to go farther, one day, but right now, I’m pretty damn happy just kissing you.” Jesse’s grin reappeared right before he pressed a soft kiss into my lips. “Although I wouldn’t say we’re ‘just kissing.’” Another soft kiss, slightly longer. “Would you?”
I shivered in his arms. “Whatever we’re doing, Jesse,” I said, still tasting him on my lips, “whatever this is . . . it’s definitely not ‘just kissing.’”
When his mouth covered mine again, it stayed there. When our mouths opened at the same time, my tongue touched his, and I realized there was nothing better than what we were doing. We were exploring each other, bit by tiny bit, and we were enjoying each and every touch and moment. It wasn’t what I was used to, not even close, but as our mouths, hands, and bodies tangled together, it seemed I was getting used to something new.
When I let myself just enjoy the moment and get over anticipating the next thing, I found “just” kissing a rather pleasurable experience. Especially when Jesse was doing the kissing. I’d kissed a lot of guys, but his kisses were a whole different thing. In fact, just kissing Jesse was more intimate than any sex I’d had with someone else. If I added all of those encounters up, their total wouldn’t have even come close to the intimacy I felt with Jesse’s mouth on mine. I’d never known a guy happy to just kiss and hold me close to him. Not since I was in the sixth grade.
Then again, I’d never known Jesse Walker until that summer.
Chapter Eight
Jesse must have slipped out of my bed and either back up the side of the chimney or out my bedroom door sometime before I woke up. It was a good thing he had, too, because a rapping on the other side of my door woke me up, followed by the youngest Walker bursting into my room before I invited her. Clementine, though, was always invited. Just as long as her big brother wasn’t sleeping next to me.