26. Darcy

CHAPTER 26

DARCY

Hayden's lips meet mine and my thoughts collapse like a house of cards.

"Holy fuck, Darce," he murmurs, angling his mouth against mine, coaxing my lips open and slipping inside.

Holy fuck, indeed.

His tongue delves between my lips, slowly stroking against mine, and I'm lost in his warmth, in the clean, masculine scent washing over me, and his taste—like mint gum and bourbon from the old-fashioned he's drinking. My awareness narrows to where we touch—his lips against mine, his thigh pressing against me, and his tongue gently exploring my mouth. The gentle grit of his stubble against my skin. My lips have never felt so sensitive, but suddenly, I can feel everything . Every brush and press of Hayden's mouth over mine—the same mouth that's smiled and grinned and sent flirty smirks at me for years.

Music plays nearby, but I can barely hear it. I shift closer to Hayden, electricity pulsing through my body and landing low in my belly. His hand is in my hair, and his other comes to my jaw, tilting me the way he wants me.

Kissing my best friend feels perfectly natural. I never want to stop, like it's something I've been missing, and the second it's over, I'm going to have a nagging feeling like I left something at home.

He pulls away an inch, breathing ragged as he studies me. His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, and glazed in a way that makes my heart pound harder.

"Okay?" He sounds hoarse.

I nod hard, catching my breath and what's left of my wits. "Yep. Was it okay for you?"

He nods, and his eyes drop to my mouth. "Uh-huh."

"Not mushy?"

He lets out a tight laugh. "Definitely not mushy." He glances over my shoulder. "I don't think he saw."

"Who?" My eyebrows pull together.

"Grant."

Oh. Right. Him. Our eyes meet, and my pulse skips a beat at the intensity in his eyes.

"We should do it again," Hayden says in a low voice that sends heat to the base of my spine, "just to make sure."

"Yeah. Okay." I sound breathless. "Just to be sure he sees." I press my swollen lips together. "Any pointers for me?"

His jaw flexes and he looks at my mouth again. "You can touch me this time. If you want."

God, yes, I want to. "I wasn't sure if it was okay."

His mouth quirks up, and the long line of his throat bobs. "It's okay. It's definitely okay. We're practicing."

"Right." I almost laugh, because practicing with Hayden is so much more intense than I expected. I'm lightheaded.

I wrap a hand around the nape of his neck, pulling his mouth back to mine.

A low noise of encouragement rumbles through him, and I arch against the hard wall of his chest as he takes my mouth, more urgent this time .

Hayden's kiss turns demanding, desperate, and addictive. I sink my fingers into the soft hair at the back of his neck, and his breath catches. I gently suck on the tip of his tongue, and he groans into my mouth. A shudder rolls through him when I scrape my fingers over his scalp. The deprived, neglected data analyst inside me loves this game.

My free hand lands on his collarbone, and I slip my fingertips beneath the collar of his t-shirt to catch his warmth. I've always wanted to touch this part of him, run my fingers over the hair at the top of his chest.

I lightly nip his bottom lip, and his big hands grip my ass in a swift motion before I'm in his lap.

"God, you smell so fucking good," he says, pressing a line of kisses down my neck.

So this is what a kiss is supposed to be like , a tiny voice whispers in my head. It's not just one single kiss, it's a hundred, in a hundred different places on my body. I've had my neck kissed, but not like this.

Never like this.

It's the most intense, erotic, intimate sexual experience of my life, and we're both still wearing all our clothes.

"And you're doing so well," he says between kisses, big hand moving up and down my thigh like he's trying to touch as much of me as possible.

My breasts feel heavy and achy, desperate for his hands to cover them. He twists his hand in the back of my hair as he takes my mouth, sinking deeper, and delicious tingles run down my neck, down my back, across my skin. He's not usually so dominant. He's my goofy, sweet, fun-loving Hayden, but he's gripping the back of my hair, moving me however he wants like it's for his pleasure.

Arousal rushes through me, sharp and surprising. It's like last week's cuddle turned up to eleven. Every nerve ending in my lips is being brushed and sucked and nibbled and stroked, and when I shift, I feel the hard bar of Hayden's erection pressing between my legs.

Sparks gather behind my clit from the pressure, and my eyes go wide, unseeing. Hayden's joke earlier about not being small rings in my head, and I whimper. He catches it with his mouth, applying gentle suction to my tongue, and my brain melts.

If this is what it's like to kiss Hayden, what's he like in bed?

Flutters roll through me. We're in public, but I would be totally okay with Hayden flipping me over to my back, yanking my pants down, and taking me right here. Minutes after I admitted I'd never had a G-spot orgasm, I feel like I could probably have one if we kept at this kissing thing for a while longer.

He kisses like he's desperate for me, like he's been waiting for this for years, like he doesn't want it to end. Like he wants it to go further. The hard press of his erection against my stomach sends a flurry of flutters through my body.

The breath whooshes out of me, and he makes a low noise of approval into my mouth. I realize I just ground myself against him.

"God, Darcy," he groans against my lips. "Fucking finally."

I shiver with arousal. I want this. I want him to take this so much further, right on this couch in front of everyone.

He pulls back, and my heart pounds at the territorial look in Hayden's eyes. Something's different now, but I'm too focused on the way he's looking at me, dazed and frustrated.

He sucks in a deep breath and blinks, and the look fades from his eyes.

"That's probably enough practice," he mutters, gripping my waist with his big hands and setting me down beside him.

Every instinct in my body screams at me to climb back onto his lap, but I just nod and smooth my hair down. My scalp still tingles from where he gripped the strands.

"Thanks," I croak, catching my breath. What the hell just happened?

He reaches for his drink and downs the rest of it, not looking at me. "Don't mention it."