Each inch that she moved forward drove him crazy. His heartbeat was vibrating his vision, filling his ears. Chase willed it to happen, for even the slightest brush of wind to push her into him for just a moment. A moment was all he needed.
Fire ignited in several places when her lips met his. His brain, his heart, his stomach, his loins. They burned with a fulfilled desire. It was soft; he was too frozen, too shocked, too happy to do as he wanted to. To pull her close and kiss her as hard as he could, to let all he’d held back come loose. To show her how he really felt. Ravish her like sweet, forgotten treasures.
Instead, he’d go slow, make it last. Savor it, enjoy it. Chase put a hand behind her head, grazing his fingers in the hair on the nape of her neck. His lips began to move slowly, sensually. She tasted like heaven and made him feel like morphine. He couldn’t and wouldn’t stop.
Brooklyn couldn’t think straight. When had this happened? When had her best friend become good at this stuff? Chase had put his hand in his hair and Brooklyn was sure he could hear her heart beating out of her chest.
She pulled away suddenly and looked at him. A small smile spread across her face. “You’re making me feel like an idiot.” She giggled. Leaning her head on his chest, she looked up at him. “You’re making me crazy.”
She tried kissing him again. It didn’t feel as awkward this time… she wasn’t as nervous. Actually, lying there, kissing him, felt more right than anything had in a long time.
When she pulled away, overwhelming guilt and sorrow filled Chase. He felt as if he’d done something wrong and already had a million apologies ready to fire at her for doing such a stupid thing.
Brooklyn didn’t scold him, or yell at him, or even show disgust. She smiled. It relieved him from the piling emotions. Her head on his chest - did she feel the same? Was this really happening? He couldn’t be dreaming…
With another kiss, he caressed her face, grinning on her lips. His free hand entwined with hers. “You’ve always made me crazy…”
