L. Marie Adeline- S.E.C.R.E.T

ack towards me and held my face in his hands.
In the end it wasn’t the special late-night delivery or the accident that took me by
surprise. It was this. This kiss. Suddenly he had me against the cool tile wall of the
kitchen, his rm body pressing hard enough to let me know that he meant it; Jesus, I
could feel him getting hard. A second later, my shirt was o and tossed on top of his
hoodie on the oor. There had been no kissing the rst two times and I hadn’t missed it.
But this, this was something else. My knees softened to the point where he had to move
his hands to my waist to prevent me from collapsing to the oor. When had I ever been
kissed like this, with just the right amount of urgency? Never in my life.
His tongue explored my mouth, with a need that matched my own. He tasted faintly
like my favorite kind of cinnamon gum. After a few more seconds of deep kissing, he
gently bit my bottom lip, and then his beautiful mouth moved from mine down the side
of my neck, searching and kissing and nally landing on a spot just above my
collarbone. He kissed me there, demandingly, which made me sigh. His hands seemed to
pave the way for his mouth, so after they had freed my breasts from my bra, his mouth
eagerly followed. His mouth traveled over one nipple until its hardness sent him
searching for the other one, while he slipped a hand down the front of my jeans to
discover what I had suspected was true: I was completely wet. He stopped kissing me
and held my gaze while his ngers explored me, his eyes glassy and intense. Then he
took his hand out of my pants and put a nger into his mouth. I thought I would come
right then.
“I’m starving. Get these jeans off, will you? I’ll set the table.”
The feral look in his eyes, the layer of sweat sheening his perfect body, the hangdog
smile. My God, this boy had me. I looked around at the creamy sweet carnage smeared
all over the floor.
“Here? In the kitchen?” I asked, pulling my belt loose.
“Right here.” And with a sweep of his tattooed arm, he cleared the rest of the debris off
Dell’s stainless steel table. The metal bowls, the pots and pans, the whisks and plastic
utensils all went clattering to the oor. Then he grabbed a checkered tablecloth from the
shelf beneath and ung it across the metal top. I stepped out of my jeans and stood
there with my arms crossed over my nakedness.
“Know what’s for dessert?” he said, turning to face me, an eyebrow cocked. “You.”
He took a few steps towards me and enveloped me in his arms, kissing me again. Then
he gently lifted me onto the table and left me there, legs dangling. I watched him walk
over to the walk-in fridge and disappear inside.
“Let’s see now …” he said. He emerged with an armful of containers and the whipped
cream dispenser.
“What on earth are you doing?” I asked.
“Close your eyes and lie back.”
And with that, he moved to my ankles, circled them with his hands and yanked me to
the bottom edge of the table. Then he parted my legs with embarrassing ease. I let out a
giggly scream that came to a stunned halt when he squirted whipped cream in the
middle of my belly button. Then he squirted two dollops on each nipple and regarded his