The thought should’ve made her happy, but it didn’t, and this caused Pippi to answer her sister’s call in an unusually subdued tone. “Hey, Rue.”
“First question,” the twenty-year-old declared blithely. “Is your V-card still intact?”
“Rue!” What was it with people today that they were all concerned about her hymen?
The younger girl let out a disappointed sigh. “You’re dating People’s Sexiest Man Alive—”
“That was last year,” Pippi muttered.
“You’re deliberately missing the point…” Rue’s voice became sly. “And it’s not like you to beat around the bush, sister dear.”
“You’re imagining things.” Standing next to the balcony’s glass railings, she tried but failed to take pleasure at the panoramic view Acheron’s penthouse afforded her. All she could think of was leaving, and the sooner the better.
“Are you still there, Pi?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Let’s just—” She broke off, sensing someone approach from behind, and when she turned around, it was to find Acheron coming to a stop within kissing distance, so blasted close the scent of his cologne was once again teasing her nostrils.
So close. Too close. Impossibly, painfully, agonizingly close.
“Umm…” Her mind was a blank, with the heat blazing from Acheron’s eyes making her feel like a cornered rabbit. She knew she should move, but she couldn’t. She knew she should push him away, but she couldn’t. Oh, the many things she knew she should do, but couldn’t – because the truth was…
She didn’t want to do any of them, Pippi realized sickly.
“Pi?” This time, Rue’s voice was tinged with serious concern.
“S-Sorry.” Her voice came out unnaturally shrill, with Acheron having reached for one of her hands, and oh dear Lord, his touch was scorching, like electricity running through every vein of her body. “I was just thinking of…” Her voice faltered as Acheron raised her hand to his lips.
“Thinking of what?” Rue prompted.
And now, he was slipping one finger into his mouth.
In his mouth!
IN HIS MOUTH!
She somehow managed to find her voice. “Fin….findings.”
Acheron’s eyes laughed at her, but when she tried to yank her hand out of his hold, he retaliated by sucking on her finger, and her knees immediately buckled.
Bloody, bloody, bloody hell!
“Findings about what?”
Pippi found herself clutching one of the balcony posts just to stay upright, her gaze helplessly drawn to the erotic sight of her finger in his mouth.
Oh God, the way his tongue swirled, the scrape of his teeth, and the way he sucked…
“It’s d-difficult to e-explain.” And it was. “I’ll call you again. O-Okay?” Her voice caught as Acheron sucked on her finger just a bit harder, enough to make her whole body shiver.
A moment later, she heard Rue whisper, “Oh my.”
“I’m so going to tell everyone.”
But the line was already dead, and a moment later, she, too, was dead, with Acheron lowering his head and releasing her finger so he could replace it with her mouth.
Pippi’s first kiss was when she was fifteen. His name was Luke, and he had been a year older. He had been one of the most handsome boys in school, and she had felt like the luckiest girl alive when he asked her out.
They had seen each other almost every day that summer, and one night, she had snuck out of the house to meet with him. That was when they kissed, a clumsy but fervent meeting of lips under the moonlight that made their young bodies tremble against each other.
It was also her last kiss because the very next day, news had broken out about Luke and his family having left town, supposedly because of debts that Luke Sr. had been unable to pay.
Almost a decade had passed since then, but there were still nights when Pippi tossed and turned, thinking about that one kiss. There were times when she wondered, what if he hadn’t left? What if she had tried looking for him? What if? There were times when she asked herself if perhaps she was still in love with Luke, just because she couldn’t make herself forget his kiss.
Now, however, she knew.
Now, with Acheron’s cool, firm lips expertly parting her own lips, it was just impossible for her not to know.
She remembered Luke’s kiss because it was the only kiss she knew. But now, after this, that kiss would be nothing. Because, simply put, Acheron’s kiss was everything and more that a woman could have ever dreamed of.
The thought of resisting didn’t even enter her mind. There was no chance to. The moment his mouth took hers, the intoxicating taste of his lips incinerated every sensible thought in her mind. All that was left then was the purest of sensations, a helpless, heartless plea for the kiss to never, ever end.
Her toes curled inside her shoes as his lips teased and nibbled, every brush of his mouth wreaking havoc on her senses. And when his tongue finally delved in, and he was sucking her tongue the way he had sucked her finger, there was just nothing – oh God, there was nothing left of her that was not his.