Sheltered by Charlotte Stein Read Free Book Online Page B

pulled away. But she couldn’t think what he might have meant to do instead.
    So she just went with, “It’s okay.”
    And let the whole thing be. They could forget about it now. Go back to the good, solid way things had been before, with no kissing and no fuzzy pot feelings.
    Because that was probably to blame, wasn’t it? The pot. It had gotten hold of him and forced him to kiss a plain, weird fat chick. Tomorrow he’d likely wake up with a pot hangover, plagued with regret and disgust, all of his handsome skin itching with the idea that he’d touched a disgusting creature like her.
    How could he feel any other way? How could he—
    “I’m going to do it again.”
    Her eyes turned to moons.
    “You are ?”
    “I think so.”
    She couldn’t help blurting out the sensible thing. The right thing.
    “Don’t. Don’t.”
    “God, Evie—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
    She grabbed him before he could say any other words. They were just getting in the way, making everything all up and down and indecisive. But the tingles in her lips said just do it, do it, and since they so rarely spoke up she had to obey them.
    The opportunity would never come along again. Tomorrow he could think of her as disgusting. Tonight she just wanted to see one more time…
    He did taste like something sweetly spicy. Cinnamon, she reckoned, but found it hard to say for sure. Mainly because she’d put her hand in his hair in just the same way he’d done to her, and she could feel it—actually feel it—brushing against her skin. The soft fuzz of it over his ear where he’d shaved it close, then a little higher up where it grew longer…oh, so silky and fine.
    Though his hair wasn’t really what she thought of, immediately. His mouth was what she thought of as he pressed back at her. Harder than he had before, and more open too.
    His lips had technically been parted, when he’d first done it. And she supposed hers had too. But it hadn’t felt like an open-mouthed kiss—not really. It had seemed too smooth and dry, somehow, like a peck you put on an elderly person’s cheek.
    Whereas this…this was wet . His lips sank into a rhythm obviously familiar to him—like a kind of slow rock over her mouth—and there were times when she felt his tongue, hot and slippery. Times when he insinuated himself right against her and that same slipperiness made her go all funny inside.
    Turned-on , her mind threw up. While she tried to ignore it.
    It was just a kiss. He’d probably had a million of them before, and never felt all tingly about it. This was just business as usual for him—making out with some girl on the porch outside her house.
    God, she’d actually started making out with someone. She knew she had, because making out was all about wrong, wicked feelings, and she seemed to be having a lot of them right at that moment. Every time his tongue slid over hers—all slippery and slow and amazing—a swell of pleasure surged up from between her legs.
    Like a few nights before only better, because he was right there with her. She didn’t have to pretend or feel guilty about using him in some sort of fantasy dream way. He had a hand in her hair and she could feel him breathing hard and when she pressed close to him suddenly, he made a sound.
    A sound, right into her mouth.
    It did all sorts of things to her. She couldn’t even process most of them. She seemed to have grown nerves in about a hundred new places, and most of them were firing. Her nipples had stiffened, beneath the thankfully thick wool of her sweater.
    But worst of all of these things was the burst of sensation between her legs. The one that seemed to be making her wet, so embarrassingly, incredibly wet over such a small thing, really, and oh she just had to stop it before he noticed.
    Men could tell things like that, couldn’t they? He would know that she got all slick between her legs, he would know.
    “Hold on. Just…hold on a second.”
    He snapped away from her so