His hand shifts under my sweater cuff, sliding up to my forearm. ''Tell me you don't feel it.'' I brush my fingers over his collarbones, just above the worn edge of his shirt. Beneath it, I feel the faint shift of muscle, the stutter in his breathing. He kisses me hot and hard. Like a collapse, His hands slide under...
His lips trail down my neck, sending shivers all over. "I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?" My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes." So he does. And I feel it. For a long moment, I just feel his eyes. Then, his hands. They skim down my spine...
''Tell me how it feels,'' he whispers. "Good," I gasp, my entire body trembling. Deeper. Harder. Perfect -- like we've been doing this for years. His hand finds my jaw, fingers firm as he tilts my head up, making me look at him. And that's it. Waves of heat pound into my belly, exploding out to my toes as my nails s...
I reached for her face, guided her down to kiss me. We were slow. I absorbed every detail - the cut of her cheeks, the trio of larger freckles near her chin, the fair sheets of lashes like spun gold around her green eyes. I did everything I could to remember it all. At that moment, we had all the time in the world. ...
Rebel Simmons was just a girl who was dealt a shitty hand in the game of life. Despite her harsh and abusive upbringing, she worked hard, and studied harder. With an IQ of 252. she's a certified genius and is working towards her Masters Degree in Computer Engineering and Computer Science at Stanford University. When t...