The Smirking Jerk (Blake's POV)

Chapter 77

Chapter 77

I dreamt that I was holding the love of my life while I was asleep.

In my dream, her hand was on my skin, and fingers were stroking my face and hair, and her lips were brushing against my cheek.

Except I wasn't dreaming that. It wasn't a dream.

My Pumpkin was actually doing that.

One of her hands was in my hair, her other was under my shirt and her lips were pressed against my cheek.

AND HAD I MENTIONED ONE OF HER HANDS WAS UNDER MY SHIRT?!

What the fuuuuuck?

What the actual fuck?

This wasn't real.

Yeah. Something was wrong. The world was ending. My imagination was going wild and my grasp on reality was slipping.

It wasn't Lexi in bed with me, it was Clark.

It would make more sense.

Still, it would be undeniably sweet if this was actually true, so I opened my eyes with a smile, and there was my Pumpkin, looking at me with panic in her eyes.

Yes, panic made sense.

Panic, I was used to.

My Pumpkin, always the deer caught in a headlight.

She wasn't moving.

So I raised my hand to her temple, brushing my fingers against it.

It was okay. I wouldn't hold any of it against her.

Even if her hand was still under my shirt and I was feeling butterflies in my stomach because of it.

I tried not to breathe too deeply, because if I did, I would feel her palm against my skin more and it would kill me.

She really needed to leave now, before I did something she would regret.

She moved and I thought she was going to leave, but to my utter surprise, instead bended down and pressed her lips against mine.

I knew how her lips felt. I knew how she kissed. I shouldn't be as shock as I was, but it was my turn to be a deer caught in a headlight.

It was just a soft pressure at first.

If she stopped now, I could still recover from it. I could forget about it as best as I could.

But then her lips pulled at my lower one, her hand going to the back of my head, her fingers tangling in my hair.

She wasn't stopping.

She was kissing me.

I hadn't been the one kissing her this time.

She'd been the one kissing me.

Which meant she had to want this.

And god knew I did too.

There was no going back now.

Kissing privileges activated.

My hand went to her jaw, and pressing her face more closely, my lips moving with hers.

Would she make fun of me if I started to cry now?

She probably would.

But I felt like crying and dancing and shouting at the top of my lungs.

But most of all I felt like kissing her like the world was about to burn down.

My arms went around her waist, holding her closer to me, pressing her against me. She wasn't going anywhere.