heart of lies (meyerson university book 1!)

chapter 4

Gwen.

The first time I kissed Lucas? It was short, sweet, and a little innocent.

But this kiss? The one where he's pinning me to his dresser with his body, holding onto my hips like he never wants to let go, and tastes like mint?

Fucking addictive.

I mean it- I'm a science major- I know the science behind addictions and obsessions- and it's really not possible to be addicted to something like kissing a 6'5 hockey player whose all muscles, dark hair, and a jawline that could cut glass- but all logic and science have left my brain.

The smell of cinnamon is filling my nostrils- I have to keep my eyes closed otherwise I honestly think I would faint- as he kisses me with so much determination it's making my head spin.

His warm lips against mine just feel right- and as he licks my bottom lip to get entry- I let him take whatever the hell he wants.

When I told Charlotte about how I kissed Lucas at the party last week, she got all giddy- I'm pretty sure this is exactly what she was imagining.

His hands are gripping my hips hard enough to hurt- but in a way, I can't get enough of them.

Then his hands slide down to my thighs and he pulls back slightly to, a second later, lift me up onto the dresser.

Me and Hazel share a love for romance books and after reading enough of them, you sort of think you would know what to do in a situation like this- but nothing compares to the feeling of hard muscles and heat pressed against you.

I wrap my legs around his lower back to draw him closer, when I do- a low growl comes from the back of his throat- and it's the hottest noise I have ever fucking heard.

I run my finger through his hair- drawing another low noise from him., meanwhile, he presses my hips to him a little more- and the heat of his hands feels like it's imprinting on my body.

He rolls his hips forward a little- the friction of his lower body to mine draws out a low whimper that I hardly recognize as my own- and I feel Lucas' lips turn into a smile against mine.

Is he laughing at me?

The thought only stays in my head for a split second before he rolls his hips again- this time eliciting a noise from both of us. In a split second, he picks me up as though I weigh nothing, and sits down on his bed- me straddling his legs, our chests rising and falling quickly against each other.

I'm dizzy- drunk with lust and desperate for more friction- I let my hands slide lower down his body- until I reached the hem of his tee-shirt and gently slipped my hands under it.

When I do that- he breaks away from the kiss, forcing me to open my eyes and see him- his face somehow even more devastating than usual. his lips slightly pink and his hair a mess. I can't imagine I look too much better, but the thought that I was the one who made him look like a mess- sent a warm feeling to the bottom of my stomach.

"Um- we, we don't have to do anything more than kiss."

I suddenly grow a look of confusion, which he immediately registers.

"I'm serious- we don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Who says I don't want to?"

My voice is a little breathless, but I don't really care.

"I just don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you or anything."

Holy shit- this guy, who just oozes confidence and charisma around everyone- actually sounds like a nervous schoolboy- it makes me smirk a little.