Читать книгу Not Another Wedding - Jennifer McKenzie - Страница 15

CHAPTER SEVEN

“WHAT DO YOU—” Poppy started to ask him what he thought he was doing, but the words never came out, swallowed whole as his lips descended on hers.

Oh. My. God.

It had never been like this at sixteen. No way. She’d remember this. A decade, two decades, a lifetime wouldn’t have been long enough to erase this from her brain. It was as if he burned himself onto her. The searing heat, the way his tongue darted out to lick the inside of her mouth, making her body quiver and melt into his. She shuddered into him.

He growled, deep and possessive, which made her blood run even hotter. It was so, so wrong, but she didn’t care and she didn’t push him away.

Her hands clamped his shoulders, digging and marking. When his arm looped around her waist, slamming her body against his, she felt the outline of his muscles and couldn’t help herself from running her hands all over them.

Hard, hot, dangerous Beck.

It was difficult to breathe. She felt as if she was sinking or floating. Something. Obviously, she was having an out-of-body experience, since she had lost her mind. This was Beck. The same man who had crushed her at sixteen and would no doubt do the same to her twelve years later without even realizing it. Which meant she needed to be strong enough for both of them.

And she would. In another minute. Or twenty.

His fingers played over the spot on her neck, the one that made her wild. Her legs shook as the sensations rolled through her. Oh, she wanted his mouth on it, on her. And once he did that, she would put a stop to this.

Okay, she would kiss him until her heart returned to its normal speed. It couldn’t keep up this runaway-train momentum forever and it wouldn’t be safe to stop before then. Yes, she was doing it for her health. The shock might do permanent damage. So would the loss of his body against hers.

He gripped her thighs, wrenching her up into his arms. She grabbed at his shoulders again, first for balance then because she liked it. She shouldn’t like it. Somewhere in the functional part of her brain that recalled the awfulness of those weeks after he’d disappeared, a voice was telling her to take a step back and assess the situation. The voice sounded a lot like her high school gym teacher, Mrs. Parker, teaching them CPR.