We Make Mayhem [boyxboy]

Chapter Fifteen

We kissed until we lost all track of time and any sense of the boundaries between our lips. I almost forgot it was possible to kiss like this: like you don't give a shit about anything else, like you have all the time in the world to devote to this trivial but monumental act. I had marathon-kissed before, but never quite like this.

I paid attention to his body so I knew just when to give him half of what he wanted, then withdraw. I cradled him against me and leaned over, slowly working my lips against his, dipping my tongue into his mouth, pulling back just when he was getting comfortable. His muscles tensed in frustration, then relaxed when I came back to him. His hands gripped my hair, desperate to keep me where he wanted me. His legs wrapped around my waist.

I sat back and unbuttoned my shirt. Noah's ankles were locked behind my back and his body was laid out in all its slender glory before me. He watched me, sucking on a finger. I found that mildly distracting and ended up ripping off the last button on my shirt. It flew across the room, pinging off something metal.

Noah laughed. "Sexiest thing ever."

"Just wait 'til I take my socks off."

"Mmm, don't tease me like that."

Once I had gotten rid of my own shirt, I pulled Noah's over his head. It ruffled his hair; static electricity crackled. Our chests collided, skin on skin, and I couldn't hold in my gasp. Was this really happening? Noah was covering my neck in kisses now, and my face was pressed into his hair, nuzzling into the pillow that smelled like him, drunk with pleasure.

We pushed the gas pedal hard, but we didn't drive off the cliff. We didn't take our pants off, and our roving hands weren't quite brave enough to reach below our waistbands... even though we could both feel the urgency and desire building up as our bodies made friction. Sweet, sweet friction...

We both veered away from the cliff at the same time, like we both knew exactly where the edge was. I rolled off Noah, landing on the bed beside him, and we both lay breathing hard, staring at the ceiling. My lips felt as swollen as if I'd been punched, but I couldn't stop smiling.

"I... had... no idea this would happen," I said between gasps.

"No? I knew."

"Oh, come on." I rolled onto my side so I could see him and his mischievous grin. "How?"

He shrugged. "I just knew."

I reached for his hand where it lay on his stomach. His fingers were so long, ending in adorable bitten nails. I ran my own fingertips over his knuckles, tendons, and veins.

"I mean, I guess we've been engaged in one long flirty exchange since the first day of school," I mused. "And every time you look at me, I'm already staring."

"See?" he said. "Inevitable."

I laughed. "You're so cocky."

But I thought about it for a second, and yeah, maybe he was right. Maybe we had been on a collision course headed straight for this moment ever since we met.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" I asked.

"The New York Times is profiling me for Monday's edition," Noah said. "And my dad's publicist's phone has been blowing up with interview requests for me all day. My ego is thoroughly engorged."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't lie and say I wasn't impressed. The fact that the whole world wanted him, but tonight, he was here with me—choosing to be here with me—kind of made my own ego swell a little.

"Your dad must be proud," I said.

"He thinks it's hilarious. The only annoying thing is the detractors saying he's behind it all, or that he knew. I did it all on my own. It had nothing to do with Dad."