Oreo Ice Cream

Chapter 23| Caught in a wildfire

Tristan, for a moment, was everything and everywhere. It felt somewhat like a half-past-twelve fever dream.

We were kissing now for the second time. It was no more a rough liplock or a burning urge to feel better, but every bad and good thing wrapped in something raw, subtle, and gentle. Like an echo of a promise to keep each other safe forever, even when tomorrow was unknown (doomed). I was terrified that at any moment, somebody would catch us red-handed and—

Before I could think of anything else, Tristan grabbed my waist, fingers settling in my dips, and tugged me closer before kissing me properly. His lips were soft rose petals against my chapped ones. Warm fur and ice mint crashed into my flawed senses as numbing bliss brattled my heart against my ribs. It didn't feel like coming home as the last one we had, rather more like welcoming a new home.

There was something queerly sweet, warm, and sedating about this kiss — like sheer desperation to grab the last thing before the whole house burns down, like the subtleness of a crisp winter morning, like so many delicious summer treats of us together. But more precisely, like Tristan.

A dash of dopamine and warmth rushed through my body as it went into overdrive. Liquid heat pooled in my thighs as I hooked my arms around his neck, pulling him towards me. It felt like neat whisky had possessed our minds. Tristan tasted like peppermint, lemongrass, salty beach air, and wiggling lavenders. I could feel the heat of his touch on my waist, even through the cotton fabric — the friction of his fingers sending shockwaves of pleasure through my skin.

I kissed him as if my whole life depended upon him — as if I was running out of oxygen and he was carrying the reserves. Oh, Tris. This was one of those rare moments when I didn't have to think of anything else but us.

I buried my hands into his hair, reveling in the feeling of those silky strands. He was closer than ever, so close that I could feel every inch of him grazing my waist. I ran my hands through his muscles. God, he feels so heavenly. Hot blood and adrenaline crashed through me again — so fast that I almost forgot how painful and blissful it was at the same time.

Our breaths came out as loud gasps as Tristan moaned against my lips. Every part of my body tightened as we devoured each other. His hand came to the back of my head as he tilted my face to get better access to my mouth. This wasn't the kiss that would tickle my stomach with butterflies or goosebumps; it was something else.

Something beyond stars and moons. Something I could never describe in a million words.

My whole body was caught in a wildfire. I squeezed my eyes harder, trying to forget every bad thing that had happened and focus on this blurry moment of touching and tasting. But the harder he kissed me, the more they flashed before me. His tongue teased mine in a battle of dominance.

I could taste the bitterness of his ignorance on the tip of his tongue: him dating Tara, ignoring me like I was a poor, new resident of his neighborhood; him being more than friends with Josie, everything laced with the taste of lavender and lemongrass, and god, help me I couldn't get enough of him. His hands trailed my body; it was burning — and the other parts he hadn't touched were exploding out of me. Unfortunately, something loud whizzed past us.

A car, perhaps.

I froze. Tris stilled, too, his forehead against mine. It felt like the world started again as we panted heavily. His eyes opened — dark as midnight skies. There was something so enchanting about his gaze, something oddly unsatisfying yet dreamy as if he was daydreaming. His thumb brushed across my jaw as my mouth found his again after feeling cold in its absence.

"I have thought of this so many times," Tris whispered against my lips before kissing my jawline as he burnt a path along it, "you've no idea, Flo." His kiss was explosive, and his taste addictive. My breath caught as my thighs pulsated. Hormones and emotions got the worst and best in me. The pressure left me dizzy and hungry. I stumbled backward; my lips never leaving his. This was the moment where nothing was left to say but devour it.