Cam’s lips swept over the hollow of my cheek and then his nose brushed mine. His breath was warm against my lips and smelled of sweet chocolate. Would it taste that way? The curiosity rose and I reached up, putting my hands on his biceps.

“Avery?”

My eyes drifted shut. “What?”

“You’ve never been kissed before, right?”

My pulse exploded. “No.”

“Just so we’re clear,” he said. “This isn’t a kiss.”

I opened my mouth and then his lips were on mine. A sweet sweeping of his lips across mine, breathtakingly tender and soft, and way too quick.

“You kissed me,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his sweater.

“That wasn’t a kiss,” his lips brushed mine as he spoke. Shivers raced up and down my spine. “Remember? If we’ve kissed, then that means you going home with me could potentially mean something more serious.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“This is also not a kiss.”

The press of his lips the second time consumed me, awakened me. His mouth was all I could think about, all I wanted to think about. A wonderful warmth slipped down my neck, spreading across my chest, and then lower, between my thighs. He kissed me gently, tracing the pattern of my lips with his own. Something deep inside me was rising, opening, and aching. I clung to him as he shifted and I was suddenly on my back.

Cam hovered over me, the powerful muscles of his arms flexing under my hands. His mouth was still on mine. No other part of our bodies touched and I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or disappointed by that. But his lips… oh, God, his lips moved against mine. I started to kiss him back, slower and clumsy where his had been sure, practiced. I was worried I was doing it wrong, but then a deep sound came from him, almost a growl and instinctively I knew it was a sound of approval. A shudder rocked its way down my body. The ache was spreading, intensifying and it was terrifying in its own way.

His kiss deepened, coaxing my lips to open to his. My senses spun as his tongue slipped in, licking over mine. I gasped at the sensation, and his tongue delved deeply. I fell into the kiss, my fingers clenching and my neck arching. He tasted of chocolate and man and I was coming out my skin as lust stirred in the pit of my stomach, followed by a burst of fluttery panic. That was smoothed away as his tongue flicked along the roof of my mouth. When he lifted his head again, he caught my lower lip between his teeth and a pleased whimper escaped me. Both of us were breathing heavy.

“Still not a kiss?” I asked.