The Psychology Project

Forty-Two: Late Night Kisses †

I was already walking through the threshold of the college, having preceded texting Jason to tell him I was only minutes from it.

It was when I was walking up the steps did I meet him half way. A broad smirk toyed at his lips, the right side higher than the left.

"British Girl," he murmured seductively, leaning down to my ear.

My knees, having already turned to jelly, were weakening extraordinarily now. If Jason hadn't have reached out to grasp my hips tightly, I would have fallen back down the stairs. He lifted me up and kept me stabilised. Even the bag in my hand was swaying precariously.

Hand in hand, we walked back to his room. I stood closest to the door, staring at the lock contraption, waiting for him to insert the key card but instead – my back hit back against the wall and I stared at Jason in surprise. It didn't hurt, but damn, this boy knew my greatest limitations. The bag fell out from my clutch and landed on the floor with a thud.

He raised his hand and placed it on my neck/jaw line. Leaning in slowly, he closed his eyes and I emulated his conduct. A fleeting moment later, his lips were firmly placed upon mine in the softest manner. Our chests were brushing against one another as he leaned back, connecting our lips for a second time.

I will never get used to this blazing sensation. I felt like my other senses were numb with regret that they weren't feeling what my lips were. Even his hands were singeing my skin, leaving the tingles in its wake.

"Maybe we should get in the room first," mumbled Jason, a minute smirk on his lips still, leaning back.

With my back still against the wall, Jason leaned round to insert the key card. Doing so, he kept one hand on my waist before backing me into his room, the door opening as a result from behind me. Jason kicked the door closed immediately as soon as we were inside, after grabbing my bag from the floor and flinging it lightly to the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Mark's gone home," he informed, "it's just us."

Jason sat down on the edge of his bed – quite tidy today, I perceived – and I flung my leg over so I was sat on his lap, straddling him so my front faced his front. I wrapped my legs around his waist gently, resting on the bed. Jason leaned up, wrapping his arms tightly around me and bringing me closer to him. No matter how many times I could say it, I would never get used to this.

He began to tenderly, almost barely touching me, trade the outline of my upper body before he got to my cheek. He held his hand there and leaned down gradually teasingly. His non-chapped lips were placed on mine again, pulling back and disconnecting before it could be taken further.

"Stop doing that," I mumbled between the next lot of kisses.

"Why?"

"It drives me insane," I whispered, leaning my forehead against his.

Jason chuckled. "That's my aim."

He changed our positions around now. He was lying on the bed on his back, his right arm up and I was lying on my side next to him. I placed my head just below his shoulder blade near his chest and his arm fell dexterously down on top of me, only resting some of its weight there before a moment later I could feel the full weight of it.

This was also perfect. Relationships were always about kisses. If you could have a comfortable silence with the guy you were dating, you know it would work out. You're not afraid to be yourself around him and you know he won't judge you. You do the same. It was tranquillity that everyone desired.

A thought had only just dawned on me.

I frowned. "Are you staying here for the entire break?" My voice was gentle; there was no reason to shout when Mark wasn't in here and I was lying right beside Jason, his side touching my stomach.