He pulls back to see that her eyes are closed, her cheeks flushed.
Suddenly, her eyes open and bore into his, and he tries to control his breathing. “Tell me why you’re here, Jahlani, because I’m trying not to cross the line even though … I’m fairly confident you already have. So, maybe just lie to me. Tell me it’s in my head.”
Her eyes bounce around his face. “I came because I …” She licks her lips. “I?—” She looks down at his mouth before meeting his eyes. “I wanted to, Roman. It’s not in your head.”
He swallows, not moving, wanting to give her a chance to push him away because she’s been drinking, but her hand is suddenly against the front of his shirt, and she’s twisting it, forcing him to stay.
“Is that what you wanted to hear?” she asks, tilting her head. “That I wanted to be here. With you. That I like being around you, Roman, and I shouldn’t,” she says, moving so that she’s inches away. “I shouldn’t be here, doing this. And yet it’s all I’ve been able to think about because I crossed the line way before you did.”
And then she’s fully pressing their mouths together, dictating the duration of the movement, the angle of his head, the amount of pressure, and it’s not enough at all.
Not at all.
His palms press flat against the small of her back, traveling up until one hand covers her neck and she sighs into his mouth. She pulls her head back, and his eyes open as he gazes down at her. Her skin is flushed, and her eyes are low.
For several seconds, they watch each other. His fingers ghost over her mouth before traveling to her jaw. He inhales deeply, leaning back in, but not completely closing the space. Wanting to be sure.
But he’s the one sighing when she presses her mouth to his again with more intensity than before. This time it’s harder, like she’s angry.
Like she’s desperate.
He slides his tongue across the bottom of her lip before pulling gently. The next meeting of their mouths is open and deep, and he tries to savor the motion of their tongues infusing, its languid pace punctuated by the warm, intoxicating taste of grape and cinnamon and a whisper of vanilla on her lips.
Hereallytries, because he doesn’t know how long he’ll have her like this. All loose lips and pliant andheragainst his form.
Nothing like the Jahlani that he’s grown accustomed to.
No, this Jahlani is risky. A rule-breaker. Willing to fall into the abyss with him.
They move together in earnest, and all the blood seems to rush to his groin in an instant when she pulls his bottom lip between her teeth. He groans and she pulls back a fraction, her words a whisper against his mouth. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, you didn’t,” he says against her lips. Sliding his hands under her thighs, he forces her onto the counter. Gripping her knees, he drags them apart until he’s standing in between them. He guides both of her arms around his neck and sinks her fingers in, gripping the strands in earnest as he guides her mouth back to his.
His hands move up to clutch her neck as he works his tongue over her top lip. They both groan as their tongues meet, and her legs lift to wrap around his hips.
She pulls away and they both breathe against each other until he’s moving her braids, tilting her neck, and sucking. Her moan is soft. Quiet even.
He wants her louder. Screaming. But then it occurs to him as she draws her hand to her mouth to stifle a slightly louder moanthat she’s trying to be respectful. She’s trying not to wake his daughter.
She’s being considerate.
He pulls her mouth back down to his and gives her a punishing kiss for being sogoddamn good. For beingoff limits.
Jahlani’s hand starts to lower. Slow. Discreet. It brushes over the front of his drawstring. Pulling back, he lowers his head watching as she tugs the knot loose. The snap of the waistband reverberates through the room. He watches intensely as her fingers start to inch down. He inhales sharply, catching her wrist.
“Being around you,” she says breathlessly. “It’s not good for me. I lose sight of my goal, my dream. You make me want to give it all up. You make me want to find a way to fit you into my plans, and I can’t have that. There’s only this.”
His lips brush over the side of her neck. “Jahlani?—”
“Do that again,” she says. “It feels fantastic.”
Like a puppet under her control, he moves his mouth over the bridge of her neck again, and again, until she’s bending into him.
“That feels amazing. Why does that feel so good?”
And he isn’t sure how long they stand there together. Her in his arms, her legs around his waist, his tongue on her neck, but every second it turns more frenzied, more rushed, less controlled. It’s like they’re trying to make up for all the times they missed out, and it still isn’t enough.
He hears the static from the monitor before she does, and he pulls back to meet her eyes, but it’s too late.
