“I don’t know,” she admitted. Her thumb moved on from his cheek to the corner of his mouth.

“Something you’ll regret tomorrow?” His brain wouldn’t stop trying to find ways to ruin this for him.

“I don’t know,” Cherisse repeated. “I’m still angry with you, but curious too, I guess. To see if lightning strikes three times.”

He had no idea what had brought this on. He didn’t care. Any misgivings he had vanished as soon as her soft lips brushed his. The hand that had been caressing his face slipped down to his neck. Keiran let her take the lead. He was on board for the ride. She could take him wherever she wanted. At this point, he was going with whatever.

That didn’t last long, though. The minute her tongue swept in and deepened the kiss, he was sending her backward on the couch. Her leg wrapped around him, strong thighs tugging his body forward, so he was up close and personal now. Kiss turning frantic, tongue seeking the wetness of his mouth, hips tilted up until there was no way Cherisse couldn’t feel his response to her.

He was pressed up between her legs, and fuck if he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting forward, the same way their tongues were going at it in each other’s mouth right now. He slid his hand in her hair, gently tilting her head back so he could get at her throat to pepper her skin with light kisses.

“Motherfucking fuck.” The curses spewed from her lips. Her thigh rode higher on his hips, threatening to dislodge his towel. He let his hand slip down to grab a handful of her ass, and he found bare skin.

Oh, sweet Christ.

Her shorts had ridden up until a good portion of her behind was hanging out of it. Bless this soft cotton and her thong, truly. Easy access. He kneaded her soft flesh as his mouth roamed back up to hers. He wanted to go further, push her top down so he could tongue her nipple until she screamed, but all in due time. If she allowed it. He was still braced for her to call mistake on this and shut everything down. But he was milking this for everything he could, as long as she was allowing it.

“Why’d it have to be you?” she groaned into his mouth. “God, the first guy to make me feel like this. Been so long, and it’s you? God help me.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said dryly.

He wasn’t annoyed by her words. He was on fire, and so hard. He had Cherisse’s hands on him. He. Did. Not. Care. He understood what she was saying. It had been some time since he’d been with anyone like this too. It was blowing his mind that he had Cherisse under him like this at all. That her hand was reaching between their straining bodies to grasp him under the towel.

“Wet,” she said. “Not just me, your briefs. You should take them off.” God, he was going to die before he really had a chance to savor her. She molded him through the wet material, and his short-circuiting brain wondered if this was her revenge. Murdering him by touch. “Just don’t stop,” she panted. “Don’t stop touching and doing what you’re doing,” she instructed.