Chapter Sixty-Eight

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Songs for this chapter:
• So It Goes... - Taylor Swift
• Teenager in Love - Madison Beer

Chapter Sixty-Eight:

Lexi's POV

I haven't been kissed since Bryce and I broke up.

But have I ever been kissed like this?

I can't be certain.

The arm he has wrapped around my waist has pinned me flush against his chest, and I can feel his heart beat hammering rapidly against my own chest. His body is hot, so so hot and it's so comforting to be enveloped in his warmth.

Meanwhile, the hand that he has in my hair is firm but gentle, as I can tell he's trying not to mess up my braid. But honestly, knowing him, I'm surprised that he hasn't already pulled my braid free so that he can run his fingers through my hair.

But the best part? His scent.

His warm, welcoming sent of cinnamon and sweetness is all around me, consuming me. He smells like the cologne I gave him for Christmas and the vanilla shower gel I use, a bottle of which I accidentally left in his shower when I took all my things and left that morning.

He smells like home and he's kissing me so so hard, as if I feel like home to him too, and I don't know if he's ever going to stop kissing me and I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell him to stop.

I'm getting the impression that this kiss is simply two months of pent up emotions, two months of yearning and craving and missing and wanting, and that the kiss is never going to stop, not until we're both able to convey every single emotion that we've felt over the past two months apart.

And so without permission, my hands find his hair and I'm pulling on it, holding him down to me because even with these ridiculous five inch heels on he's still more than seven inches taller than me and he's just so huge, his shoulders so broad and his arms so strong, so muscular and toned and perfect.

His tongue is in my mouth and our teeth are clashing together and I've lost all control, the giddy feeling in my chest growing too strong, but I'm still able to process the sound he makes, the deep growl in the back of his throat as his hand skims the bare skin of my back, as he realises that I'm not wearing bra under this tiny dress.

I don't want to stop. I thought I felt alive while dancing in the club with Knox, thought I felt alive when I left my dorm in a short dress and sky-high heels, but this, right now?

This is what it's like to truly feel alive.

By some miracle, we're able to break apart from each other despite the desire clearly coursing through both of our veins.

Well, we don't really break apart. Our mouthes just separate so that we're left pressed together still, our faces only a few inches apart.

I blink several times, barely able to process the sight in front of me.

Dark hair.

Tan skin.

Strong arms, corded with muscle.

Broad shoulders, a thin emerald green T-shirt stretched over them, a T-shirt the exact same shade of green as my dress.

Amber eyes.

Amber eyes.

I'm immediately filled with too many emotions to even begin to describe. It feels like I'm drowning and flying and I'm suddenly filled with so much joy that my heart feels just about ready burst out of my chest.

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