She slid off her shoes and under the covers. I pulled Porter back outside and closed the door. Emotions spilled from him in waves of heat and cold. Our blood was hot between us from the friction of all those feelings pent up.
“It’s fine. Really.” I stroked his cheek, pressed myself up against his chest. There was no space anywhere between us. I felt him against me then. I smelled his heat. Smelled the sudden desire.
“Emma. We can’t.” He tried to pull away, but was trapped.
“I know. You say that. I want to ride this moment forever though.” There were purple dots in his eyes again. I smiled at the wonder of them. I slid my arms into his dry clean shirt and felt his skin burn every nerve of them. I pressed my nose into his neck and felt the dampness rise between us, smelling our blood, our heat.
“What happened back there?” His voice was slurred a bit. His concentration was going the way of all men.
“Something close. It felt a little different. Familiar but different. Strong.” My tongue flicked out to snag a droplet of steaming sweat. The salt sting filled my body with molten electricity. I pushed my hips into his, rocking, grasping the edge of his waistband, sliding my fingers inside smoothly.
He pressed back with his thick muscled thigh. One tiny microsecond. Then he stepped back and turned away. “We can’t do this. I promise. We can’t do this.” – Chapter 9 – My Sweet Infected

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Charles Miske

About Charles Miske

Author of Fiction: Paranormal, Dystopian, Post-Apocalyptic, SciFi, Vampire, Zombie, Steampunk, Author of Non-Fiction: Mountaineering, Fitness, Fat Loss,