“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked hoarsely, her eyes glued to mine.
The question caught me off guard, and I brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and took my time to answer. “Because you’re hurting.”
“But I’ve been horrible to you,” she whispered, sitting up just a little, but somehow, ending up even closer.
I shrugged and tried to tease a little, needing to see her break into a smile. “Even I know I deserved it.”
She let out a weak chuckle. “You kind of did.”
Something shifted behind her eyes. The pain turned to a focus. An intense kind that reeled me in and made time stretch thin. She was still in my arms, her eyes still on mine, and for a brief second, it felt like old times when we used to cuddle together and watch TV.
“See?” My voice came out hoarse. “You keep me on my toes.”
Her eyes lingered on mine a moment too long.
And something changed in the air.
She cast down her gaze and lingered on my lips a moment too long. Every spot I touched her at turned hot, curled between us like smoke.
Her breath hitched, and she leaned forward. I knew what was coming, knew it might muddy things up, but I cupped her cheek with one hand, my thumb brushing lightly over the wet cheek beneath her eye. “You really scared me today,” I murmured.
Her lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.” My voice dropped, hoarse.
The silence between us stretched thinner and thinner—until it snapped.
Her lips parted just slightly, and in that breath of hesitation, I leaned in.
The soft sweetness of her lips paralyzed me for half a second. Her mouth was warm and salty from tears, and her lips trembled against mine. I let her kiss me softly, until the kiss settled in my nerves, travelled through my veins, and then…
Instinct took over, and I was kissing her back hard, in disbelief that after four years, it felt just like it did back then.
My hand slid up to cradle the back of her neck, fingers threading through her silky hair. She made a small, needy sound in the back of her throat that sent lightning down my spine. Her tongue swept across my lower lip, and I let her in until my mouth was full of her.
Our breaths turned to gasps and little whimpers.
She tasted exactly like I remembered—sweet with an edge of fire. My body remembered hers, too, and I pulled her closer, nearly into my lap, as our tongues tangled and stroked against one another like we were dancing.
Her fingers trailed up my chest to my shoulders, then higher, until they were buried in my hair, tugging with just enough pressure to make my blood simmer. I groaned against her mouth, my hand sliding down her back to the curve of her waist, squeezing gently.
I’d dreamed about this moment for years. Imagined it a thousand different ways. But the reality of Alisa in my arms again was better and worse than anything I could have conjured.
Better because it was real. Worse, because I knew what was driving it.
She wasn’t kissing me because she wanted me. She was kissing me to forget whatever pain her father had caused her.
The realization turned me cold like I’d plunged into ice. With a groan of a man fighting being possessed, I broke the kiss and gently pushed her back.
“Alisa,” I whispered. “Stop.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and I saw the confusion in them. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re upset.” I brushed my thumb across her cheekbone. “And I’m not going to be your distraction.”
She jerked away from my touch, embarrassment flushing her cheeks. “That’s not what this is.”
“Isn’t it?” I asked gently. “Ten minutes ago, you were sobbing in my arms. Now you’re trying to climb into my lap. You don’t think that’s connected?”
