Because he had the most striking green eyes she’d ever seen.
She knew she probably should have told the stranger to take his hands off her. And she should already have been pushing out of his arms, too. But when he smiled down at her and said, “Hi,” she was so drawn by his incredible magnetism that she simply echoed him.
“Hi.”
“Damn,” he said in a low voice that rippled up her spine, then down to her toes, “you’re beautiful.”
For all the times that Serena had been told she was beautiful during the course of her modeling career, it had never meant as much to her as it did right then, from the lips of a gorgeous stranger holding her in his arms.
Maybe that was why her reply made its way past her brain to her lips. “So are you.”
Again, his smile flashed, but a moment later it was gone. That was when she belatedly realized that neither smile had reached his eyes. And when she looked more closely into the green depths, the twisted-up torment she saw in them had her instinctively raising her hand to his cheek.
“Whatever happened,” she said softly, so close to his lips that she could almost taste them, “I’m sorry.”
Pain flashed through his eyes before a brutal sound tore from his throat, pain so intense that she swore she could feel it herself. The next thing she knew, his mouth was on hers, claiming her lips in a way no one ever had as he pulled her closer against him.
Time and again, she’d read books about passion so deep that the characters would throw away everything in their lives for it. Only, no matter how skilled the author, she’d never really understood it. So even though her mother had warned her over and over, all the way back to when she was a very little girl, that she should never, ever let herself be seduced and enthralled by a man’s pretty words or caresses, Serena hadn’t worried about it. Not when it had always felt like any passion, any heat, she gave off for the cameras was all for show. Inside, she’d worried that she’d always feel frozen.
But this—the thrill bumps rising across the surface of her skin, the way her tongue instinctively licked out to stroke his, the perfect fit of her curves and softness against his muscles and strength—this was the kind of passion people threw away perfectly good lives for. And it was no wonder, when just kissing him could make her feel this way.
Like she was thawing from the inside out.
Serena couldn’t believe how good it felt to be in his arms and how quickly his kiss was heating up her body. And as he showed her the passion, the wild heat, and the wonder that she’d been seeking for so long, instead of stopping him or pushing him away, she moved even closer between his strong thighs and twined her fingers into his soft, dark hair to keep his mouth against hers.
On a groan, he captured her mouth more deeply. For a few perfect moments, they were equal partners in passion. He wasn’t leading and she wasn’t following. They were both simply taking and giving to each other exactly what they needed.
A break from the cold.
A reminder of what it was to feel alive, completely alive.
And a chance to forget what they each needed to forget.
For herself, all she wanted was to forget that her life had never been hers, not until she’d set foot on this campus. And for him? Well, it was obvious that whatever it was that he needed to forget had wounded him deeply. Very deeply.
“My room.”
The air brushing against her lips as he spoke startled her for a moment. Why, she wondered, had he stopped kissing her?
There was no forethought on her part as she pulled his mouth back down to hers. All she knew was that when he kissed her, everything felt right and she didn’t want the feeling to go away. Not when she’d finally found something—someone—to make her feel this good.
Thank God, he immediately lowered his mouth back to hers. This time she was the one running her tongue along his lower lip, then nipping it lightly with her front teeth. When he groaned against her lips, she had to do it again, loving that she was affecting him just as much as he was affecting her.
“My room,” he said again, only this time he punctuated each word with another sizzling-hot kiss.
With his kisses intertwining with his words, she could almost just let them wash over her like the music. But when he pulled away enough to take her hand and lead her through the crowd, without his mouth on hers to lull her, the cautious voice inside her head that she’d tried so hard to stuff away earlier that evening popped back up, front and center so that she couldn’t ignore it.
What are you doing? You don’t even know this guy! He’s planning to take you to his room...and you can’t be such a naïve, dense virgin that you don’t know why, can you?
The voice, the words, all sounded like her mother’s. But it was true, she realized as ice-cold reality suddenly splashed over her, that if anyone had taken a picture of them making out—or, God forbid, a video—it could already be up on Twitter or Facebook right now.
It was a horribly sobering thought to think about the way the gossip sites and magazines would eat this up...but it was far worse to think that her mother would see them. Especially after Genevieve had made it perfectly clear that she’d never forgive Serena if she tossed everything away for a boy.
What had she been thinking?
But that was just the problem. She hadn’t been thinking, hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought from the moment the stranger’s lips met hers.
Just then, he moved close again, close enough that her body betrayed her by leaning into his heat rather than away from it. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he said in a low voice that rippled through all the parts of her that he’d just brought to life with his kisses.
And the truth was that she was nearly as lulled by his sensual words as she’d been by his kisses. But that was just the problem: When she was in his arms, she wanted so badly to never let go of the wonderful feelings he sent rushing through her, that she was afraid she’d do something stupid. Like giving up her virginity, two weeks into college, to a beautiful stranger at a frat party. All because she wanted to feel something real and big and true.
“I—” She faltered as he kissed her again because it really did feel so good, so perfect. She couldn’t believe how hard it was to make herself tug her hand from his and start to take a step back. “I should go now.”
But instead of moving away from her, instead of letting her go, he slid one hand around the nape of her neck. “Stay.” He stroked her skin as if to coax her to change her mind. “Come upstairs with me and I promise we won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”