Kissing Milo in my dream was nice, but kissing Milo in real life is a whole other level.
The spark that shoots between us when our skin touches is nothing compared to the spark that shoots between our lips when they kiss. My lips part in surprise at the feeling, and he seems to take it as an invitation to slip his tongue inside my mouth. He tastes different than anyone I’ve ever kissed before; he tastes like fire, a taste I didn’t even know existed. A whimper escapes my lips as I dig my fingertips into his scratchy stubble, climbing into his lap and wrapping my legs around him. A moan escapes his own as my own tongue begins its dance with his, and then I feel it—his erection—even stronger and larger than it was in my dream—
“Nell,” he whispers, and for a second, I think it’s a statement
