I try to move back, but his hold on my neck tightens…for a second. Then he releases me, stuffs his hands into his pockets and stares into my face.
"You, okay?"
I shake my head.
I have never been kissed like that. Certainly not by my ex. In fact, I’ve never had such a powerful reaction like this with anyone else.
I thought I wasn’t a passionate person. That’s what Keith told me. I thought I was someone who didn’t like kissing and being held and being intimate with a man.
But fuck Keith.
Clearly, it took the right man to press the right buttons and make me feel like I was going to combust when he touched me.
"Why don’t you sit down?”
He places a hand at the small of my back, the touch like a thousand little fireflies fluttering against my skin. He presses gently, and Imove forward. He pulls out my chair, turns it, then urges me to take a seat.
Then, he picks up the glass of water on the desk and hands it to me. "Drink it."
I do.
I don’t stop until it’s empty. Then hand it back to him.
"What was that?" I whisper.
“That was us, kissing.” His blue-gray eyes have turned almost indigo. My lips throb in response to his words.
“Wow,” I whisper.
“Yeah.” He turns the chair next to mine and sits down facing me.
“Now that I’ve established, we’re more than compatible when it comes to sex, what other questions do you have?”
I open my mouth, but my mind is blank. That kiss overwhelmed me. Also, if I’m being honest, I don’t have any other questions. I’m so filled with happy hormones, I can’t remember what I was so anxious about.
"You think we can pull this off?"
"Absolutely.”
He seems so confident.
It makes me want to believe him. "And when my friends and my parents find out you’re not the man I originally intended to marry? What then?"
He raises a shoulder. "You can’t live your life by what the world thinks of you. You need to stay focused on yourself. And what you want."
I nod slowly. It’s reassuring, hearing his words. And somehow, it calms the churning in my stomach. It gives me the confidence to accept what he’s suggesting.
When I stay quiet, he nods as if I answered an unspoken query from him. "So, what do you say, about my proposal?"
I pretend to think. And because I sense I’ll never have this opportunity again, and because I want to somehow put my mark on this occasion, I tip up my chin.
"Where’s the ring?"
Maybe, I’m testing him. Or perhaps, I’m compelled to ask because he ridiculed the fact that my ex-fiancé never bought me one. Or maybe, this time… I’m not compromising on what I want from this marriage.
"A ring." His eyes flash. "Are you saying yes?"
I chew on my lower lip. His gaze, instantly, is caught by my mouth and stays there. His chest rises and falls. When he swallows, I know he’s turned on.
