answering, hoping he didn’t screw things up even more.
“I acted like a prick at Dan and Maddie’s party. I made assumptions and I embarrassed us both. But, honest to God, Carissa, I was just trying to keep you from getting hurt. I know things with us are messed up, but I consider you a friend. And I don’t let bad shit happen to my friends.”
She gave a tired sigh, pinched the bridge of her nose, and clenched her eyes shut. “Your timing sucks, you know that? Why couldn’t you have done this a week ago? When I wasn’t already on the verge of a nervous freaking breakdown?”
He gave her a sympathetic smile and instinctively reached out to touch her arm. As soon as his fingers grazed her warm, soft skin, he realized his error. But damn if he could pull away. The connection, however small, sent shocks of electricity zinging through him. Just like every friggin’ time he touched her.
A friend? Really, Hudson?
Carissa’s eyes opened slowly, casting downward to where his fingers lingered. She wet her lips and carefully met his gaze. “Josh?”
“It was never my intention to make trouble for you, baby girl.” His fingers closed around her slight wrist, his thumb sliding down to stroke the inside of her palm. Vaguely he realized he’d used his intimate nickname for her, wondered if she’d call him on it...
“No? What about Saturday?”
“I was definitely looking to cause trouble on Saturday.”
“So you’re sorry?” She bit at her lip and looked up at him from beneath her lashes.
“For breaking up your party with Tony? Hell no.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I’m not, am I?” He shrugged and shifted closer, his feet moving of their own accord until he was close enough to wrap his arms around her shoulders and bury his face in her hair.
For a moment, she didn’t move, but slowly he felt her relax against him, her hands light and featherlike at his waist. Then she slid them to his lower back, fisted his t-shirt, and...trembled?
He pulled back and brushed loose strands of hair from her face, watching a storm of barely contained emotion gather in her eyes. His chest ached, a deep, bone crushing pressure that made him want to take it all away for her and promise to make it right.
Gently, he swept his thumb over her quivering bottom lip, his gaze trained on the soft pink pillow and, just like that, the wall he’d tried so hard to keep between them crumbled.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
He shook his head, his gaze unwavering from her lips and what he wanted, and when he spoke his voice was hoarse with longing. “I don’t know. Maybe something I should have done a long time ago.”
Her eyes went wide with panic, but she didn’t try to escape his procession. “Don’t you dare kiss me. Josh. Don’t. You. Dare.”
Chuckling, he reached up to cup her jaw while the other hand pulled her even tighter against him. He felt out of his own body, like he was watching the moment unfold from behind a thick glass window. His mind warned him to stop— Don’t do it, man, you know the rules! —but his ears couldn’t hear.
He leaned down, crowded her. Took a deep breath and...kissed her.
He let go of her waist to hold her face with both hands and, despite her warning, she pushed up on her toes to meet him. She pressed her hands against his chest as his tongue teased the seam of her lips, begging entrance and needing to taste her, to know if she was still as sweet as he remembered.
She obliged with a soft moan, and the husky sound compelled him to back her up against the counter as they fell into a lingual game of cat and mouse. Velvet tongue against velvet tongue, chasing and teasing. Her hands slid up to his hair, tugging at what she could to bring him even closer.
Peaches. She still tasted like peaches. And honey. Thick and sweet and addicting.
He wedged a knee between her legs and went for the hem of her tank top, needing more. When his fingers dipped beneath, she shuddered
“I acted like a prick at Dan and Maddie’s party. I made assumptions and I embarrassed us both. But, honest to God, Carissa, I was just trying to keep you from getting hurt. I know things with us are messed up, but I consider you a friend. And I don’t let bad shit happen to my friends.”
She gave a tired sigh, pinched the bridge of her nose, and clenched her eyes shut. “Your timing sucks, you know that? Why couldn’t you have done this a week ago? When I wasn’t already on the verge of a nervous freaking breakdown?”
He gave her a sympathetic smile and instinctively reached out to touch her arm. As soon as his fingers grazed her warm, soft skin, he realized his error. But damn if he could pull away. The connection, however small, sent shocks of electricity zinging through him. Just like every friggin’ time he touched her.
A friend? Really, Hudson?
Carissa’s eyes opened slowly, casting downward to where his fingers lingered. She wet her lips and carefully met his gaze. “Josh?”
“It was never my intention to make trouble for you, baby girl.” His fingers closed around her slight wrist, his thumb sliding down to stroke the inside of her palm. Vaguely he realized he’d used his intimate nickname for her, wondered if she’d call him on it...
“No? What about Saturday?”
“I was definitely looking to cause trouble on Saturday.”
“So you’re sorry?” She bit at her lip and looked up at him from beneath her lashes.
“For breaking up your party with Tony? Hell no.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I’m not, am I?” He shrugged and shifted closer, his feet moving of their own accord until he was close enough to wrap his arms around her shoulders and bury his face in her hair.
For a moment, she didn’t move, but slowly he felt her relax against him, her hands light and featherlike at his waist. Then she slid them to his lower back, fisted his t-shirt, and...trembled?
He pulled back and brushed loose strands of hair from her face, watching a storm of barely contained emotion gather in her eyes. His chest ached, a deep, bone crushing pressure that made him want to take it all away for her and promise to make it right.
Gently, he swept his thumb over her quivering bottom lip, his gaze trained on the soft pink pillow and, just like that, the wall he’d tried so hard to keep between them crumbled.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
He shook his head, his gaze unwavering from her lips and what he wanted, and when he spoke his voice was hoarse with longing. “I don’t know. Maybe something I should have done a long time ago.”
Her eyes went wide with panic, but she didn’t try to escape his procession. “Don’t you dare kiss me. Josh. Don’t. You. Dare.”
Chuckling, he reached up to cup her jaw while the other hand pulled her even tighter against him. He felt out of his own body, like he was watching the moment unfold from behind a thick glass window. His mind warned him to stop— Don’t do it, man, you know the rules! —but his ears couldn’t hear.
He leaned down, crowded her. Took a deep breath and...kissed her.
He let go of her waist to hold her face with both hands and, despite her warning, she pushed up on her toes to meet him. She pressed her hands against his chest as his tongue teased the seam of her lips, begging entrance and needing to taste her, to know if she was still as sweet as he remembered.
She obliged with a soft moan, and the husky sound compelled him to back her up against the counter as they fell into a lingual game of cat and mouse. Velvet tongue against velvet tongue, chasing and teasing. Her hands slid up to his hair, tugging at what she could to bring him even closer.
Peaches. She still tasted like peaches. And honey. Thick and sweet and addicting.
He wedged a knee between her legs and went for the hem of her tank top, needing more. When his fingers dipped beneath, she shuddered
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