Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

But her mouth. Her damn mouth, leaving little kisses on
the corner of mine, her tongue teasing me, the taste of her
skin…
I wanted to swallow her up.
“Something I Can Never Have” played, the shower ran,
and it was like we were in the fountain as kids again.
Everything was pure and sweet, just for that short amount of
time, and this was how it was supposed to happen. It was
always going to happen with us.
I wanted to feel her on me. Her skin on mine. I wanted
every inch of her.
Carrying her to the sink, I set her down and she pulled up
my sweatshirt and T-shirt, helping me get them off. I dropped
them to the floor and held her face, kissing her again and
again, my tongue meeting hers and our heat and breath mixing
together.
I pulled back, looking at her eyes as I slipped the bow tie
off and unbuttoned her blouse. She ran her hands down my
chest all the way to my stomach, fingering the grooves and
dips, and I groaned at how good her fingers felt.
This was the only way she could see me, and even though
it made my blood race in the most unbearable way, I tried to
be patient and let her explore.
Fingers splayed over my collarbone, across my shoulders,
down my arms, tracing the lines and muscles on my chest and
stomach, and then she slipped her fingers under the waist of
my jeans, filling my groin with heat.
“Winter…” I barely whispered.
I wished she knew my name. I wanted to hear her say it.
Why did she feel so different than anyone else?
She slipped out of her shirt, but when she reached around
to unclasp her bra, I stopped her, pulling the straps off her
shoulders instead and kissing a path up her collarbone to her
neck.