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Chain Reaction (Perfect Chemistry #3) - Page 18/42

Right now I have a desperate need to be held by him. This isn’t going to define me. This is about having fun and living out the fantasy.

“Hold me,” I say. “Please.”

“You’re drunk,” he says.

“Just a little buzzed, that’s all.”

“Nikki,” he whispers as he gets closer. As soon as I feel his body heat I reach out and slowly run my hand down his arm.

“Don’t talk,” I whisper. If he talks, he might say something to ruin the moment. To be honest, I’m afraid of what he’ll say.

Being here, in the dark, makes this surreal. It’s like a mixture of fantasy and reality all meshed in one. I’m totally okay with living in Fantasy Land right now, because that’s what I need. If this felt too real, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it.

I brush my lips across his face to his ear. “Hold me, like you wanted to on the boat.”

The second he wraps his arms around me, a sweet calmness washes over my entire body. It reminds me of when he held me protectively when we were in Fox Lake. I’m not deluding myself into thinking this incredible feeling will last forever, but I revel in his embrace. I’m living in the moment, and it feels so amazingly good I never want it to end.

His arms are caressing my back slowly, the warmth of his strong fingers searing my skin through my silky top.

I’ve pushed him away for so long, but tonight the pressure is off. With renewed determination, I reach up and touch my fingertips to his face.

He pulls back. “You sure about this?”

“Definitely,” I say. “You’re my fantasy tonight. Is that okay?”

“Fantasy, huh?”

“Yeah. As in the opposite of reality.” I laugh, giddy just being here with him. I’m excited to put my plan into motion. “Just for tonight, let’s see what happens.”

“And tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? “I haven’t thought that far ahead. I just want to make out with you right now. You game?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” I ask.

He leans forward and kisses the sensitive spot right under my ear, then whispers, “If you want to stop at kissing, or go further.”

When he brushes his lips slowly down my neck, I throw my head back and hope he continues to go slow. I’m not used to slow.

“That feels so good.” I moan as he lets his lips rest on the spot where he can feel my pulse. He kisses the spot lightly. “Keep doing that.”

He kisses it again. And again. And again. “Your pulse is racin’,” he whispers against my skin.

“No shit,” I say, which makes him laugh.

I put my hand on his chest. Through his shirt, I can feel his heart beating hard and fast against my palm. “Yours is, too.”

“Mmm,” he says before I feel the softness of his warm, wet tongue replace his lips on my pulse.

Whoa. I suddenly get dizzy and grab his shoulders for support. His strong arms lock around me immediately and hold me steady, as if he’s more than willing to be my hero tonight.

I need a hero.

It’s romantic. The shades are closed and we have total privacy from the chaos outside. A few slashes of dim light between the slats break through the darkness of the room. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol I drank that’s making me want him so much, but I’ve never felt this way—not even with Marco.

I wish this could last forever.

When his lips sear a path down my neck and he gently pushes the straps of my shirt away to kiss the top of my shoulder, I can’t take it anymore.

“If you don’t kiss me I’m going to die.” I pant. “Forget going slow.”

“I thought you said my tongue action needed work.”

“I lied. Want to try again?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “Real bad.”

He hesitates for a split second, but then I feel his palm cup my cheek while his thumb moves back and forth like a soft caress across my lips. I close my eyes and kiss his thumb.

“Does this feel good?” he asks, replacing his thumb with a touch of his lips.

“Yes,” I whisper back. My hands weave into his hair.

I must be more than buzzed, because all I can think about when his lips brush against mine is that I wish we could stay like this forever.

A flick of his tongue against my lips makes my breath hitch.

“Let me taste you, mi muñeca.” He moans.

I clear my head from all thoughts and inhibitions as my tongue reaches out for his. He’s a breath away, waiting for me. When our tongues collide, it’s hot and wet and slippery and slow … it feels dirty and sexy and beautiful all at once.

I melt into him as he holds me close. Our mouths are open and tasting each other. I feel like my insides are molten lava as he cups his hands over my butt and urges me closer. I feel him against me, and his obvious bodily reaction to our kiss makes my body ache for his touch.

We’re both breathing heavily now. The place has no air-conditioning, and I’m starting to sweat. In one motion, I break our kiss and pull my shirt over my head. I’m standing here in my shorts and my bra.

I take his hand and place it over my bra. His breath catches, and the hot air around us seems electrified.

His fingers skim the silky satin of my bra and the sensitive skin between my breasts. His hands are skilled and slow. He’s teasing me, and I’m breathing harder in anticipation of him pulling the material aside.

Waiting is complete torture.

I can’t wait anymore. I reach around and unhook my bra, then let it fall to the floor. I wish I could see his face right now.

“Your turn,” I say playfully, then tug on the bottom of his shirt. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

He hesitates again.

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “Don’t overthink this. We’re having fun. Isn’t that what you want?”

Without further hesitation he rips off his shirt and immediately pulls me against him. My breasts crush against his hard, lean body.

While he caresses my bare back and his hands move down to cup my butt again, I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his body. His hands hold me suspended in midair until he carries me to the nearest wall. He presses against my body, holding me against the wall while we grind against each other. His hardness presses against my softness, and I wish we were naked but at the same time I’m glad we’re not, because right now I’m not in control. I’ve lost it, and I have the feeling he has, too.

“Tell me to stop.” He groans against my lips.

I don’t. I can’t. Instead, I wrap my legs around him tighter, urging him to keep moving. He does.

I bite down hard on his bottom lip when things get too intense, too emotional. My hands are on his hot chest and I can’t hold back anymore.

I wrap my arms around him tighter and whimper against his neck. My entire world explodes around me, and the feeling won’t stop. Then I feel him grab me tighter while he comes apart in my arms. It’s just … wow.

“That was amazing,” I say weakly after I come down from the high and catch my breath. “To be honest, I was nervous all week. But … this was a great fantasy, wasn’t it?”

He tenderly touches my hair, then gently runs his fingers through it. “It was more than that, mi chava.”

“Yo, Luis!” Marco’s voice calls from the outside of the pool house. Knock, knock, knock. “Luis, you in there?”

21

Luis

Nikki quickly covers her nakedness with her hands and whispers in a frantic voice, “It’s Marco. What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know.” My body is still coming off the high and I can’t think straight. I’ve hardly had time to recover, and I know there’s a good chance the evidence of what we just did is probably gonna be visible. Not good.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“I’ll get rid of him.” I pick up her clothes and hand them to her.

I watch as Nikki clutches the bra and shirt to her chest. “Thanks,” she whispers.

She rushes past me, but I take her hand and gently urge her to face me. “Are we cool?” I know it’s a stupid thing to say, but no other words come. I want to tell her more, a lot more, but I can’t.

“Yeah, we’re cool. Just … go.”

She locks herself in the small bathroom while I make sure my shirt covers any evidence of our encounter.

“What the fuck took you so long?” Marco asks.

Shit. Think of something fast. “Takin’ a piss. What’re you doin’ here? I thought you didn’t party with north siders.”

“I might not party with ’em, but I’ve got business with ’em.”

By business he means drugs. “You’re loco.”

“And proud of it.”

He peers over my shoulder and scans the pool house, but the lights are off so he can’t see anything. I close the door and head out, hoping to guide Marco far away from Nikki. It’s obvious she doesn’t want him knowing what happened between us. Hell, she might want to deny we fooled around. Or maybe she was so buzzed she won’t even remember it in the morning.

Marco and I walk into the main house. “This place is lame. Let’s bounce,” he says, pushing through the crowd of people who are eyeing us suspiciously.

“Who invited the wetbacks?” Justin Dougan calls out as we leave. He’s on the front lawn with a bunch of the guys on the football team, and they’re not sober. They’re all laughing and giving Dougan high fives for insulting us.

Marco and I both halt, give each other knowing looks, and in unison turn to face Dougan and his crew.

“What the hell did you just call us?” Marco asks, ready for a fight.

“You heard me,” Dougan says. “We only allow immigrants to clean our houses or mow our lawns.”

“Really?” Marco says. “ ’Cause when I screwed your sister in her bedroom two weeks ago she didn’t say anythin’ about that. In fact, I know firsthand that she loves eatin’ big, fat burritos.”

Oh, man. Dougan’s nostrils flare, and his group advances toward us. “You’re dead, Delgado.”

“Did you really screw his sister?” I mumble out of the side of my mouth so only Marco can hear.

He grins mischievously and nods.

“Go back to Mexico where you animals belong,” Dougan says, then spits at us like we’re the animals he accuses us of being.

Without hesitation, Marco charges him. I’ve got his back, though, when two of Dougan’s friends pull him off and start pummeling Marco with their fists. It doesn’t take long for my own fists to start flying.

And it doesn’t take long for a crowd to gather.

I don’t get into fights often, but when I do the beast in me unleashes with a vengeance. Maybe Dougan is right and I am an animal. The instinct to fight is in my Fuentes blood. Two guys are holding me down while a third is kicking my stomach. It doesn’t even hurt … with each blow the rage rising to the surface makes me stronger. I break out of their grasp and bring two of them down before I scramble to get up and pull a guy off of Marco.



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