Blue (The Spectrum Series: #3)

Chapter Eleven

I have no control over my body, but I'm not sure I would want to stop anyway. I hear him draw in a sharp breath and I think I do too. I release the same breath into his mouth that melts me to my core. His body shivers at the action, and he becomes more heated. Greedy. Blue's lips taste like cheap booze and dark chocolate – a bittersweet combination that makes me vibrate in delight. His tongue finds mine and I jump into his arms. He chuckles lightly at my reaction. I flush. It's obvious I have no experience with this, but he doesn't make fun of me, no, he kisses me and treats me like a trained professional.

Every single inch of me feels like it's being awoken for the first time in ages, like I've been keeping myself dormant for ages. Does kissing always feel this amazing? I feel empowered as I grab the nape of his neck and bring him closer to me. We're chest to chest now, and I feel his chest stutter against mine. He feels it too, feels the electricity seaming through our moving mouths. His lip-ring is cool against my mouth as he laps his arms around me, drawing me flush against his body, the rings on his fingers biting chills into my skin. The realization that I'm topless and he's seen my plain old white bra makes me feel even hotter and frantic; we've already come too far to be embarrassed now... but that doesn't stop the flush of humiliation when his hand finds my chest, and he cups me gently, amazingly.

He pulls back for air, and I quickly gulp for my own. "Damn Lily," he breathes heavily before crashing his lips against mine, our tongues grazing against each other. I don't know what is going on, but I don't care. This feels so good. The sensation of his massive, calloused hands rubbing gently against my softer skin, the taste of his whiskey-chocolate mouth, the hardness I feel when I climb his lap. I'm lost in my head now and he's lost in the feel of me as he lies down, pulling me down onto him. I instinctively hold his shoulders, unsure of what else I can do with them.

"Blue," I whisper, my voice oddly raspy and slow. I sound intoxicated... by him. And I don't mind. God, he tastes so good, feels so good. I whimper when he removes his mouth, but it quickly turns into a moan of happiness when he begins to kiss my shoulder, then my collarbone, then my neck, my throat, my neck again. His tongue feels foreign and out of place just under my ear, until he begins to suck against my skin and a bubble of pleasure explodes in the pit of my stomach. Oh... I have never experienced anything like this. What is going on? How much more can my poor voice take with me moaning like this? I move my hands under his thin black shirt and he makes a deep grunt sound as I feel his hard stomach.

I want to taste his mouth desperately again. Hearing my thoughts, because I swear he's close enough to me to hear them, his mouth finds mine again, and he cups my face with his hands. I smile as his rings dance against my cheek as he deeply caresses me. His body fits perfectly to mine, it's almost scary. My mind is all over the place, trying to catch up to our fevered mouths tasting each other. His skin is hot under my touch as I excitedly run my hands over his arms. I want to feel more of him. He's addicting to taste and touch. His hand winds into my messy hair and clutches hard, pulling my head back. His mouth removes from my mouth and he kisses my neck. I smile at the feeling, but before it can go any further, there's a knock of reality at the door.

I don't even comprehend the sound and person yelling behind it, until he groans his way up to my mouth, holding me hostage to his kiss once again. I want to plead for him to stay, to not move, he doesn't even seem to hear the commotion behind us as his hands roam my stomach, but reality seeps deeper into my lightly pounding skull with every harsh knock.

"Blue..." I say. Too raspy, too intoxicated, too... I grip his shoulders and snap into reality, pulling my lips away to tell him to stop. But his mouth finds my neck and I'm partly in heaven again... but the knocking. Ugh. "Blue, we have to stop." I don't want to, but we really have to. I don't know how far I want this to go. I can't even think straight, not really.

His mouth is feverish against my neck, hands fisting my hair.

"Blue! Stop!" I shout, my voice clear enough for him to hear. He abruptly pulls away from my neck and stares at my skin, meanwhile I gasp for air. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment before he sits on the edge of the bed and grips his hair. He doesn't say a word and it worries me. Did I do something wrong? I'm entirely new at this. Before I can reach for his hand and ask him what's wrong, the banging resumes.

Groaning impatiently, I rush over to the door and swing it open. "What?" I snap and stop short. It's Riley, and she looks pissed until she shifts her gaze to her bed, where Blue sits.

"I just wanted my phone, it's charging..." her voice trails off as she looks at me up and down. I shrink two sizes under her gaze, wishing a shirt could magically appear on my body, a brush combing through my tangled curly mess. It's apparent what just happened in here, especially with my puffy lips under my nervous rubbing fingers. "But I can come back later," she squeaks and runs away before I can even open my mouth.

Oh, this will easily be an hour-long conversation I am not looking forward to.

Heaving a sigh, I turn on my feet and walk into Blue's chest. His eyes are no longer hazy or soft with emotion, but set in a cool glare, and his lips are pinker and blatantly swollen from our heated kiss. It happened not even a minute ago and I still can't believe it. What does this mean between us?

He couldn't be further away from me, because he shrugs and snaps, "What?"

I shrink backward, self-conscious now and weirdly placed in the present. "That kiss... I didn't mean for it to happen, or... um, what does that mean?"

"What are you talking about?" He lifts an eyebrow, and his harsh tone makes me stumble for words and I feel like a complete idiot.

"Our kiss — "

"Consider it non-existent," he says and it stings worse than any jelly-sting.

"But we just... that didn't feel non-existent to me." I sound pathetic now, but I don't care. I'm not stupid, I know what just happened means something, if anything. He can't just be a prick now, not after that. I can't handle it. I feel too vulnerable, too malleable.

He scoffs, "Of course it doesn't, you're inexperienced, Lily." His words slice through me and I physically take a step back. I know I am just drunk and probably won't remember this in the morning, but he just took my first kiss for goodness sake, he could be a little nicer about it. Nicer than usual, at least. He shifts as if my hurt makes him uncomfortable. But I know he doesn't care about me, he's just putting up a front to make it seem like he does.

"I don't need to be experienced to know that you're being a dick!" The alcohol in my system is fueling me, and I need as much as I can to stand up to this asshole. "You just stole my first kiss and you're acting like I mean nothing –"

"Why would I need to steal something I can easily get, and more?" he snaps and I gasp.

Does he really think that? I want to smack myself. Of course he really feels this way. Funny thing is, he wouldn't need a drop of alcohol to say exactly this to me.

Eyes burning like an inferno, he continues. "Look...just because we kissed, doesn't mean I'm suddenly interested in, like, a relationship or anything. I don't date. So put that and this out of your mind." He pauses, and I begin to tear up. I'm sobering up with each bitter word that tumbles out of his bruised lips. His gaze softens, but his words don't as he lowers his voice and says, "See you around, ballerina," before walking out.

I wait until the tipsy trip I've been on mentally leaves my mind before breaking down into pathetic tears.