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“Hey, Nico,” she calls, just as I’m rolling backward into the elevator. “Out of curiosity, do you even remember my name?” I look up. Because how could I not, with a question like that? And her eyes glow, and she’s looking at me, half uncertain, half flirtatious. All the way gorgeous. “How could I forget?” I say simply. “Layla’s a beautiful name.”
twenty-three-year-olds
I thought he said he was 26
another taste every few seconds, I’ll stop breathing. In the space of a few minutes, Layla went from sweet to essential. I really am completely fucked.
“Don’t want you?” I repeat through gritted teeth. Fuck, she smells good. I’m angry and hard all at once. How can I want someone who makes me this crazy? I take a long inhale. “One breath, and it’s like I’ve never had oxygen. One look at your blue eyes, and water never existed. Fuck, Layla, I don’t just want you. I need you.”
“You.” My voice is haggard. I shake my head from side to side. “You wreck me, Layla. You really do.”
exhale through my nose, and then, because I can’t not do it, cup her face with one hand and kiss her again, savoring every dip and valley of her lips, tasting deeply, slowly, exquisitely. It’s not a kiss that says I need to fuck you. It’s a kiss that says I love you. Te amo. However you
say it in Portuguese. It doesn’t matter; it’s all the same
