"N-not even your family?" she stuttered when my thumb followed the edge of her jaw. I slid closer, thank God for bench seats.
"No one." Finally, I reached the edge of her mouth, those pink lips that were open as she breathed unsteadily. The line along her bottom lip was full and soft as I touched it. "Your mouth, that was next."
Her eyes fluttered shut. "Wh-what?"
I leaned in further, and the soft exhalation from her mouth hit mine. I pulled it into my lungs.
"I noticed your mouth next. Even now, this mouth makes me insane. When you smile, it's like a weapon."
Those eyes snapped open.
I traced the upper lip now, the sweet V of the cupid's bow. The tip of Joss's tongue darted out to lick her lips, but she caught the pad of my thumb as she did it.
My hand moved to cup the side of her face, and slowly, slowly, slowly, she tilted her head more fully into my palm.
That was my sign, the one I was waiting for. I wet my lips, her eyes tracking each movement. I dipped my chin and lightly, so lightly touched my lips to hers.
Click.
A puzzle piece. A lock. A key fitting into place, the one, singular, unique place it was meant for.
I brushed my lips back and forth slowly, memorizing the satin of her lips as she exhaled shakily, her hands sliding up my forearms to grip my wrists.
Joss tilted her head to the side for a new angle, and I touched my tongue gently to the seam of her lips. Immediately, she opened, and the sweet touch of her tongue against mine had me groaning deep from within my chest. This was my drug. This was the bright shot into my veins that had me flying.
I sipped at her lower lip, and she made a sound, a plea for more when she shifted again, tightening her grip on my wrists.
My hands were shaking as I held her face, then tilted my own to kiss her more deeply, sweeping my tongue against hers harder than before. There was so much pent-up energy coursing through my body I had to fight, claw, and snarl at the impulse to pull her onto my lap and kiss her as deep, wet, hard as I'd imagined so many times. To feel her skin under my hands. To know what her weight would feel like in my arms.
Joss released my wrists and wrapped her arms around my neck, her breasts pressing against my chest as we leaned into each other. She held me so tightly and kissed me with such delightful, unpracticed intensity, like she was a champagne bottle that had finally been uncorked.
"Joss," I whispered into her neck, kissing her underneath her jaw.
At the sound of my voice, muffled by her skin, she stilled, carefully pulling back so she could look at my face. Her hair was a mess, probably because of my fingers digging into it, and her lips were pink and puffy, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
"Whoa," she whispered, touching the tips of her fingers to her mouth.
I dropped my forehead to hers and exhaled, which sounded unsteady even to my own ears. Smoothing my hands up and down her back, I simply breathed her in, something clean and sweet and her.
"Pretty much."
Joss lifted her head and stared at me, her eyes were curious and careful. "You really wanted to kiss me that badly?"
I spoke on a laugh. "Yeah. I've wanted to kiss you that badly since the day I met you."
Her face fell. "You're joking."
"Why would I joke about that?" I asked.
"You've … you … for five years?" She gasped. "There's no way."
My eyebrows popped up. "Trust me, I'm not lying to gain brownie points right now."
She shook her head. "Levi, you're my best friend," she said, like it was all the explanation necessary.
Something dark and huge opened in my stomach. The worst-case scenario I always worried about, like a weed sprouting up between us. "I know. And you're mine. Those things are not mutually exclusive, Joss."
She laughed unsteadily and pushed backward on the seat, adding space between us. "Come on, be serious."
"I am being serious." My voice was firm because I wanted her to know how real and true this was for me, but inside, inside, I felt the cold brush of panic at her reaction.
If there was one thing I knew about her, knew about this woman who I loved so desperately, it was that she could burrow into her safety net and mute the feelings that would only serve to make her feel worse. Her kiss told me everything I needed to know, that she felt exactly what I wanted her to feel, but I knew how capable her brain was at shutting off the feelings that scared her.
With a flick of her wrist, she'd slide the lock into place, and that had my brain whirring furiously at how I should handle this.
Her breathing picked up again, quick and panicky and furiously paced. "There's no way," she said again. "There's no way you've been sitting back for five years. There’s no way you'd want to deal with what this would do to your life."
As she said it, she looked down at her legs, then back up again. I damn well knew what she meant, and given how well she knew me, it was a bullshit excuse.
It was the most convenient thing she could grasp at, and that alone stoked the tiny flames of frustration inside me.
I leaned in until we were practically nose to nose. "Ask me, Joss."
She pinched her eyes shut. "I'm scared to."
All the times I worried about not pushing too hard, Sylvia's question about whether I tiptoed around her feelings because of what happened to her, they all thundered ominously in my head, and I knew, I knew this was no time to
