All Over You (Unforgettable You, Book 1.5) by Beverley Kendall Page B

and although I planned to take it slow, finesse the kiss, I can’t. It’s been two weeks; just too fucking long.
     
    R EBECCA
     
    The second Scott’s lips touch mine, my senses go into sensory overdrive. My eyes close and my lips part, two things that seem to happen of their own volition. He tastes like the mint he’d been sucking on after dinner and right now I’m feeling like I’m suffering the worst case of mint addiction.
    His tongue parries with mine as I wrap my arms around his neck, trying unsuccessfully to get closer. The front seat of a car is not the most comfortable place to make out. But he’s holding and kissing me, and right now that’s all that matters. My body’s reaction to him is seen in the beading of my nipples and the growing moisture between my legs.
    I become lost in the drugging kiss, pulling his bottom lip into my mouth and running my tongue over the wet, pink flesh. Groaning against my mouth, his hand trails down my side. When it reaches the hem of my sweater, he pushes underneath where my skin feels hot to the touch.
    A moment later the upward press of his hand is pushing the flimsy cups of my bra up and away from my breasts. I gasp in pleasure when he encloses the right one in his hand. The flick of his thumb across my nipple sends a jolt of lust from my breast to my core. Panting, he breaks the kiss and buries his face in the crook of my shoulder, his breath labored and harsh against my neck. “God, Becca.” He gently squeezes my breast and continues his relentless thumbing of the hardened tip.
    A part of me knows that unless I want to end up on my back in the back seat with my panties around my ankles, I need to end this right now. But that part of me is fighting my body, which is pushing for the satisfaction of having him inside me. Pounding into me.
    Before I can react to my warring parts, he pushes my sweater far up enough to expose my breasts to the cool night air and sucks the tip into his mouth. The throbbing between my thighs goes from hanging-by-the-nails tolerable to excruciating pleasure-pain. My gasp of pleasure ends in a shuddering moan, my hand cradling the back of his head to keep him there—as if he were going anywhere.
    The exquisite torture of him sucking and his tongue circling my nipple lasts several minutes. By the time he’s finished with one breast and starts on the other, I’m almost gone. But it’s that brief cessation that brings a moment of clarity to my beleaguered senses.
    “ Scott,” I gasp, trying to push his head away before he can reach his intended goal. “We can’t.” Especially not in the front seat of his car. I send a brief thanks to God that we aren’t in my apartment because I’m not sure I would have had the strength to call a halt with a bed a short walk down the hall.
    Both breasts exposed to his burning gaze—and to anyone who happens to be peeking in his car windows—he stills, his mouth inches from my reddened nipple. His breathing is harsh and ragged, as is mine. It’s as if we’ve both just run the last leg of the New York City Marathon.
    It takes a good thirty seconds before he gets himself under control and that’s when he finally looks up at me. Hunger banks the heat in his eyes. With more willpower than I can even credit myself, he fixes my bra in place and pulls down my sweater while I watch on, bemused and unfulfilled.
    “ That got out of hand,” he says hoarsely as he shifts fully back into his seat. I quickly follow his lead, readjusting my bra in an effort to get it comfortably back in place.
    “ Yeah, I guess it did,” I say when I feel like I’m properly put back together. At least on the outside, inside my stomach is churning and the throbbing between my legs still hasn’t subsided.
    Scott sends me a look that starts at my chest. My nipples, which are still making a marked imprint on my sweater, further harden under his heated gaze. From there, his eyes lift to my mouth, where they darken and narrow. My