Free Lust Thy Neighbor by Emily Snow

“Are you panicking now?”
    “Yes.” Her voice sounded tiny.
    “I liked the kiss,” he murmured. “Maybe a little too much, to be honest.”
    "Yeah?"
    "Oh, hell yes." He leaned closer to her.
    "Are you going to kiss me again?" He smelled fresh and clean, like dryer sheets and soap. Violet swore she also detected a hint of sandalwood—maybe in his aftershave—and it attracted her on a raw, basic level that she had never experienced. He was like a magnet and she was powerless to resist the force drawing them together at this very moment. And the thing that scared her was that she didn't want to resist. What she’d learned of Declan Pierce so far, she liked—also maybe a little too much. Because the more she discovered, the more she wanted to know about him.
    "As long as we're making things believable,” he murmured inches from her mouth.
    "Oh.” She swallowed hard and then did it once more because the tightness in her throat was still there. "I see."
    He bent his head closer, a few locks of his damp hair skimming her forehead. He could see the jump of her pulse at the base of her neck and moved to cover it with his palm. Her breath quickened, and she moaned against his lips. He felt his body tighten and contract, every muscle going rigid.
    “I'm going to kiss you now,” he told her roughly.
    "Yes, please.”
    He nuzzled his mouth against hers, testing the softness and her heat. Capturing her fuller bottom lip between his teeth, he tugged gently. When Violet opened up with a small cry, he moved his hands to her back, one hand at the nape of her neck, and the other pressed against the small of her back. He kissed her slowly, teasing and tasting and exploring slowly because tonight, he wasn't ready to let her go so easily. Tonight, he tasted chocolate on her tongue instead of cinnamon gum, but it drove him just as crazy.
    When her tongue peeked out to play with his, his hand fisted her long hair, and the silky strands tumbled over his knuckles and wrist.  When he heard her moan and felt her move against him, he shifted their bodies until her legs parted and he moved between her widened thighs.
    Her hands wandered up to his chest, stroking the muscles beneath her fingertips, and he felt his heart leap at her tentative touch. Her soft fingers gripped his shoulders like she was holding on for dear life. He was so glad he hadn't thrown on a shirt when he answered the door because he liked feeling the scratch of her nails against his bare skin just as much as he enjoyed listening to the little moans coming from the back of her throat.
    “We better stop.” He pulled back reluctantly, thought better of it, then bent to run a heated trail from her lips to the swell of her breasts with his own mouth. "We need to stop."
    "No.” Her hands moved restlessly over his torso. "Please don't tell me we have to.” If this was making things believable, she wanted to practice like this with him daily. No, hourly.
    "Jacob is in the next room." He feathered a kiss across her temple. “Not that I'm not tempted to throw you over my shoulder and finish this in my bedroom.”
    Her core tightened at his words as she slid off the barstool and attempted to put a fair amount of distance between them. "You're right." She stood in front of his new stove shaking her head and pressed her hand to her chest, trying her best to tame her erratic heartbeat. "Thanks for the kiss."
    He caught her hand in his and pulled her back to him, making her painfully aware that she'd affected his body just as much as he had her own. "You're welcome,” he murmured against her mouth.
    "And thanks a lot for playing along the other day."
    "Anytime. Trust me.”
    She cleared her throat and put her hands on his chest, staring up at him with a serious expression. "That dinner that my grandmother mentioned? I plan to tell her that you can't make it."
    Declan was on the verge of accepting her decision when he heard himself ask, "Why?"
    A deep frown wrinkled her small