HOW TO CATCH A BAD BOY

Chandler ran the edge of his nose along hers, and she tried not to whimper pitifully that they weren’t kissing because why, why weren’t they kissing? She wanted this feeling to last forever. It was the closest she’d ever come to skydiving, to bungee jumping, free-falling through the air, and her blood sang violently in her veins at how heady it all was.

He went back in with a growl, tilting his head so he could sweep his tongue against hers. They were wound so tightly around each other; her leg curled around him when he used his hand, gripping possessively around her thigh to hitch it higher.

The way that he fit her hips to his, Elena broke away from the kiss with a gasp. Shooting, sparking little fires erupted when he rolled against her, pressing her back against the wall. It was wild and crazy because anyone could see them, and yet Elena had the indistinct, hazy thought that with one press of his hand, one movement of his body between her legs, she’d explode like a lit bomb.

His mouth trailed down her neck, sucking kisses that would surely leave a mark, and she hissed her pleasure. Her fingers found their way up underneath the soft cotton of his shirt, and she purred at how hot and smooth his back was, how unbelievably strong those shifting muscles felt underneath her hands. He licked up the side of her neck, stopping to drop a gentle bite against the line of her jaw, which made her smile. “Since the moment I came into the bar,” he murmured in a dark, rough voice, “and saw you in that dress, I’ve wanted this. And shit, Elena, it’s so much better than I thought.”

Elena blinked, so caught up in the maelstrom of what he was making her feel, of how everything that had happened since they met that had led to this inevitable moment that she’d forgotten about why she was here in the first place.

For years, she’d imagined what it would be like to kiss Elijah. But never once had her imagination conjured something like this. And she didn’t feel guilt, not precisely. Because she was nothing to Elijah, and Elijah meant nothing to her now, and the man holding her like he could hardly keep himself in check, he was touching her and tasting her and looking at her like she was everything.

This man, who was the opposite of anything she’d ever imagined. Chandler paused and pulled his head back, clearly sensing the way her errant thoughts ushered tension into my body.

It just … wasn’t the kind of tension he probably worried about, when he’d cautioned her to be sure. Kissing him, it made Elena more sure. More certain. This … him, that was what she wanted.

But she saw the moment he read something on her face he didn’t like.

“No, Chandler,” she begged, sliding her hands from his back and up the rigid lines of his abs. “I’m not stopping.”

Gently, he tapped her forehead. “Something happened here.”

Elena glanced down because she wouldn’t lie. “I know, but … I’m still here. I’m so here with you.” Going up on tiptoe, she sipped on his lush bottom lip, trying to draw him back into that decadent moment with her. His eyes fell shut, and he allowed it.

“So good,” she told him. “It’s so, so good.” Her hands curled up behind his neck, and she pulled his head back down, sucking at the tip of his tongue when it dipped into her mouth. His chest reverberated with a hungry sound that had the hair on my arms lifting.

Chandler slowed the kiss and rolled his forehead against hers. “Elena… Baby, I would love nothing more than to keep kissing you. And if we weren’t in this damn house, I would take you up to my room and rip off every single article of clothing between us.”Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

Elena’s mouth fell open because yes, please. His eyes bored into hers, and she knew what he was saying to her was important.

“And if you regretted it tomorrow because you got caught up in the moment, I’d never forgive myself if I felt like I pushed you into this.”

Elena laughed under her breath, but his face stayed in that serious mask. Her palm cupped the side of his face, and she relished the way his dark facial hair felt under her skin. “Chandler, you’ve done nothing but tell me how much you want this,” she said.

“I do.” He turned and pressed a kiss into her palm. “Trust me, I’m past a hundred percent even though it drives me insane when people say things like one thousand percent because it’s mathematically impossible.”

Elena’s loud laughter took them both by surprise, but it broke his face into a small grin. “Why are you so sure I’d regret this?” she asked him.

He used the tip of his finger to trace a line across her forehead and down along the edge of her cheekbone. Her eyelids fluttered shut at the gentle caress, so different than how he’d been kissing her. “Because of how your face looked about two minutes ago. Something stopped you. Something you can’t mute”-he tapped her forehead again-“in here.”

How had she not noticed how observant he was? Her mouth fell open slightly at how quickly he’d picked up on the unraveling of her thoughts. The inability to get out of her own head was usually her downfall anyway. To think and think and think about something until she knew exactly what she felt about that thing. Until her head and her heart were on the same page. Right now, with Chandler, was the first time that she could remember when she just let herself feel without needing to know how everything might work out, and how this might look when they returned home after the wedding. When he pulled away, his hands falling from her body, she instantly felt cold even though the sun was out.

“Chandler,” she said quietly.

He paused, and she saw the desire there in the tight line of his jaw, the way he held his hands so carefully at his sides. His big body, so much stronger than hers, was all but vibrating. “It’s okay,” he said slowly. “I’m not mad. I just … I can’t handle it if you wake up and look at me with disappointment in those eyes, love.”