Life Before Damaged Vol. 8 (The Ferro Family) by H. M. Ward Page A

sigh, and his tongue strokes my bottom lip once more.
    It breaks me. I can’t hold off any longer.
    With the cookie long gone, I kiss him back, opening myself to him, and welcoming his kiss. I forget everything but the feel of his soft lips and the taste of his tongue as it dances with mine. I melt into him, and he places my hands on his shoulders before letting go of my wrists. With one hand, he cradles my head, twisting my hair in between his fingers, while his other hand goes to my back, pressing me firmly against him.
    God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him. The first time Pete kissed me, it felt like my first time, like I’d never been kissed before. This, right here, feels like coming home. Pete’s hands travel everywhere at once, down my shoulders, along my back. I feel safe once more in his embrace, which is exactly why I have alarms and bells clanging loudly in my head, telling me to stop this. I ignore them. It’s like being in the eye of a storm. Complete calm amidst the destructive chaos around me. I know that this will destroy me, but I let it happen because I'm too weak to stop it. I need it. I crave it.
    I'm lost in his lips, and I don't want it to end. His mouth breaks away from mine as he lightly brushes kisses over my cheekbones, down my jaw, delicately caressing every part of my face. Our eyes meet briefly and something snaps. All tenderness is gone and replaced by something else, something all consuming. Our lips meet again in a deeper, more passionate connection where every sweep of his tongue against mine sends me into a whirlwind of sensual hopefulness. My body aches for him. His hands keep me close the entire time, as if afraid I might run away. My fingers play with his hair, tugging every once in a while, earning a couple of the sexiest groans I’ve ever heard to reverberate in my mouth. He grasps my hips and squeezes, pressing me down at the same time as he pushes his hips upwards. I gasp. The pressure feels so good. He hits that sweet spot down below, and I rock into him once.
    "Oh, God! More." I moan shamelessly into his mouth, and he gives me more.
    He presses his hips to mine again, growling my name into the kiss.
    His hands travel up my body until they cup my face, allowing Pete to sever our connection gently. We're not just breathless; we're both panting. I press my forehead against his and try to catch my breath. Pete's face breaks into a lazy smile, his eyes still closed. His eyelashes flutter as if he’s slowly waking up from a deep sleep. He is truly beautiful beyond compare, like a sexy angel that fell from the sky.
    Pete looks at peace, and I trace every perfect feature with the pads of my fingers. He turns his head to the side and opens his eyes. “There, that should do the trick, don't you think?”
    “Huh?”
    “Over there.” He nudges with his chin. “Paparazzi. Hopefully, this will appease my mother, and she can get off your back for a while.” Pete points to a bush where photographers shoot in our direction.
    My heart beats once and then plummets so far, so fast that it makes me gasp for air. It was all an act? Damn it! Of course, why else would he kiss me like that?
    Constance had us followed; Pete saw the photographers hiding, and he gave them what they wanted. It’s as simple as that, just like when he was holding my hands earlier. I knew this wasn’t real, not for him. It's not like it was real for me, either. We're friends. That’s all we are, and all we’ll ever be.
    “Good plan." I force a plastic smile on my lips and hide everything else. "Thanks.” I push myself up, wanting some distance, but Pete holds me there, grasping my hips and pulling me down on his--disco stick!
    “Wait, don’t move!” he says. I try to wriggle free but, he’s holding me too tightly.
    “Relax, Pete. You can let me go. You’re wearing jeans. No one will see your ginormous boner.” Pete’s mirth filled eyes connect with mine. "Ginormous, huh? It's nice of you to notice,