29
It was too late by the time I realized what I had just asked. Another question. Another risk. I froze, mentally kicking myself.
Why did I say that? Why now?
I panicked. She might get mad again. Emma was like a storm earlier—furious, intense, unpredictable—and now I’d just poked it again.
But the thing is… she was giving me signals, right? Or maybe I was just misreading everything?
She was staring at me—at my lips in particular—and it felt deliberate. Seductive. Inviting. The way her gaze dropped from my eyes to my mouth, then lingered… it was hard not to read something into it. My heart pounded in my chest like a warning bell, but I ignored it. I couldn’t help but be drawn in.
And before I could think better of it, I spoke again.
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
The moment hung still.
Emma's lips parted slightly as if she were about to speak, but no sound came. Her breath caught. Her eyes flicked back to my lips.
“J-Jen…” she whispered.
That was all the confirmation I needed. I wasn’t imagining it.
I stepped forward slowly, like every movement needed careful intention. The space between us felt electric. My whole body buzzed as I closed the distance. Everything around us slowed—her eyelashes fluttering, the way her chest rose with a quiet breath, the soft curve of her lips. Time, breath, thought—everything faded.
And then I kissed her.
My lips met hers in a gentle press, cautious but full of longing. I closed my eyes, breathing in her scent, my fingers slipping instinctively behind her head and tangling into her hair. She kissed me back. Not hesitantly, not experimentally—but like she meant it. She tilted her head the opposite direction from mine, syncing perfectly.
Her lips were soft. Warm. Familiar in a way that made my knees feel weak.
I moved forward again, encouraging her gently until we reached the couch. I didn’t want to break the kiss, afraid that if I did, she’d come to her senses and pull away. So I kept kissing her, careful, slow, reverent.
And she let me.
She didn’t push back or stop me. In fact, she leaned in. Her hands reached for my back, fingertips gently pressing me closer to her as the kiss deepened. The fire between us grew, intensified, spreading like warmth in my blood. I slipped my tongue through her lips, my senses drowning in her taste, her breath, her touch.
God, if I was dreaming, I never wanted to wake up.
We finally landed on the couch, and I carefully guided her to lie on her back, hovering above her. Still no protest. Not a single word to stop this. Instead, her hands tightened around me as though she was anchoring herself to this moment.
I broke the kiss briefly, pulling back just enough to look at her.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen from kissing. She looked radiant—like desire had painted her in colors I had never seen before.
I caressed her cheek, letting my fingers glide over her skin as she closed her eyes. She looked like she was savoring everything. So was I.
Was I in love with her?
That question flickered in the back of my mind, making my chest tighten. Before I could answer it, she opened her eyes again. They searched mine. Soft, but full of something that made my heart flutter.
“Emma…”
Just her name made her blush.
“Fuck it,” she whispered—and then she pulled me down again, her lips crashing into mine with newfound urgency.
This time, she took the lead.
She kissed me hard, her hands moving across my back, over my hips, up under my shirt. I felt her fingers graze my bare skin, and it sent a shiver down my spine. I moaned softly into her mouth, not even trying to hide it.
Her lips left mine only to trail kisses along my jaw, down to my neck. I tilted my head, offering more of it to her. She was confident—her movements, her touch. I wondered briefly if she had done this before, with someone else… with another girl maybe? But that thought quickly vanished as I gave in to the overwhelming sensations she was giving me.
We were both breathing heavier now. Her lips returned to mine just as I started slipping off her shirt. She didn’t resist—in fact, she helped, raising her arms and letting me peel it off her. When I saw her in just her bra, I nearly forgot how to breathe.
She was… beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking.
She did the same to me, tugging my shirt off, her eyes trailing across my body. Then her hands found my waist and pulled me into her again.
She reached behind me and fumbled with the clasp of my bra. When it came undone, I panicked, just for a second, not sure how far I wanted this to go. But before I could speak, she paused and looked at me, concern written all over her face.
I didn’t want to stop this. I couldn’t.
So I kissed her again, deeper, urging her to continue. Her hesitation melted, and the bra was gone.
Her gaze dropped, and for the first time ever, I saw pure lust in Emma’s eyes.
“Jen, you’re beautiful,” she whispered.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, she kissed me again—and then, suddenly, she flipped us over.
Now she was on top, straddling me.
Her lips found mine again, then moved downward, grazing my neck. I felt her tongue tease my skin before she made her way lower, lower… until her mouth reached my chest.
She nibbled on one breast while caressing the other. My breath hitched. Her tongue flicked across my nipple before she gave it a gentle bite. I gasped.
“Emma!” I moaned.
My back arched off the couch in response to her touch, her mouth, her hands.
God, I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Her nails traced lines along my back, and I shuddered. She seemed to enjoy the effect she had on me, her smile wild and proud.
Then she looked up at me from under her lashes, still nibbling on my nipple. That look alone was enough to undo me.
She sat back on my thighs, her eyes full of hunger and wonder.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“You’re so beautiful,” she said, her voice low.
I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. “Said the gorgeous one,” I whispered, reaching for her hand and pressing a kiss against it.
She blushed. Emma. Blushing. My heart squeezed at the sight.
She leaned back down to kiss me again, and I held her close, not wanting even an inch of space between us. Her lips were softer now, her kiss more sensual. It wasn’t just lust anymore—it was something deeper. Intimate. Like she was trying to tell me something she couldn’t say with words.
As we kissed, I reached behind her, unhooking her bra in one swift motion. She looked at me, surprised, maybe even impressed.
Her breasts were perfect—round, firm, and calling to me. I couldn’t help but stare.
I swallowed hard.
Holy crap. I’m touching my neighbor’s boobs.!
And I was screaming internally.
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