Knockout (Gaslight spin-off)

35| Nothing is forever

Each kiss seems to last forever. I feel him everywhere, even in the places he's yet to explore: my chest, my stomach, even in the one place no man has ever ventured, though something tells me if things continue, it won't stay unventured for long.

He walks me back against the counter. I crash into medical equipment, sending vials of disinfectant rolling, but we never break our kiss. If anything, it hardens, laced with desire and a dash of frustration that leaves me breathless.

I want him. God, I want him – more than I've ever wanted anything. I feel it in my desperate attempts to draw him closer, but it's still not enough. None of this is enough.

I need more.

From the way he grabs the back of my neck, he needs more, too. Part of me always knew it – and maybe he did too – but tonight was the catalyst, breaking the last of his careful resolve, and now there's no going back.

My hands grab his hair, running down his neck and back and grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt. Before tonight, our kisses were just that – kisses. Hot and rough but laced with an innocence that kept us grounded. Right now feels explosive, like two fireworks on the verge of collision; any second now, we'll implode.

If he cares, he doesn't show it. He presses against me, hard and taut beneath my weight. I do the same back, reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt before tugging it over his head. I toss it aside, leaning back to marvel at his chest, which might just be a masterpiece.

His eyes grow dark as he takes me in too. The air crackles around us, charged with electricity. I keep thinking I'm having another one of those dreams where I get a little ahead of myself, but I'm not; this is real.

He kisses me again, this time softer, but only by a margin. It's like he wants to be gentle, to savor the moments our mouths intertwine, but with every second that slips, so does his control. I know how he feels because even though I hadn't realized it before now, we're similar in more ways than one.

Without warning, he buries his mouth in my neck. I groan against him, losing myself to the hot, rough feel of his breath. My back arches, and it's like every nerve ending in my body awakens simultaneously. I can't breathe. Or I can, but not enough to function.

All I can think about is him.

His kisses grow more intense, our breaths mingling in a fevered rhythm. The sound of clattering equipment echoes around us, but I can't for the life of me care. I'll clean it tomorrow, or maybe I won't, and Coach will dock my pay, but right now, it doesn't matter. For the first time, I don't feel like I'm out of control; I know exactly what I'm doing.

My hands tangle in his hair as we kiss, my body arching towards him. The taste of him is intoxicating, and I can't get enough. As the kiss deepens, I feel his hands roaming lower, pulling me closer. I wrap my legs around him tighter, my body pulsing with need.

His hands slide down my thighs to my knees, prying them further apart. Fingertips run along the front of my thighs until they each near my waistband. His hands grab my hips, rocking me against him in waves.

Heat courses through me. I can feel him growing harder, and the knowledge that I'm driving him crazy only fuels my own need. I run my hands over his chest and shoulders, feeling the muscles ripple under his skin.

This is the furthest we've ever gone before. The furthest I've ever gone, period. I feel like I should be terrified or like part of me should want to stop before things go too far, but I couldn't if I wanted to.

"Stop me," he breathes in my ear. His voice is low and demanding. Urgent. "Now, Cassandra."

But instead, I pull him closer, needing to feel his body against mine. As his lips trail down my neck, I let out a low moan, lost in the feel of his mouth. Without a low groan, he lifts me off the counter and carries me through the door.