“I tried to saveyou from this, Molly.” Ezra’s voice was gentle, roughened. “I’m tired offailing.”
Before I could askany questions, his lips were on mine. His touch jolted through me, surprisingme with the feel of his mouth, the press of his body, the realization that EzraBaptiste was kissing me. I probably should have been expecting this, buthonestly there was not any way to prepare for this kiss.
This kiss that waseverything I had never felt or experienced before, or had the chance to enjoy.If all of my blind dates that turned into baddates,andreallybad dates had been with boys pretending to be men, then thissingle experience was enough to erase them all from my memory forever. BecauseEzra wasn’t a boy or pretending to be a grown up or anything but a sexy, irresistible,virile male.
His mouth movedover mine with skill. Caressing, nibbling,suckinguntil I kissed him back in the same way. His hunger was subtle at first,growing with intensity the longer we stood there. His hands found my waist,tugging me against his hard body. My hands belatedly fluttered to his chestwhere I clutched his t-shirt with two fists and held on for my life.
He kissed me in away I had never been kissed before. In a way I knew,I just knew, I would never be kissed again, not by any other man.Nobody could replicate this moment. Nobody could compare. I was totally lost tothe sensation of his tongue tangling with mine and the rumbly sound he made inthe back of his throat when I caught his lower lip in my teeth.
He wasn’t shy orreserved. His mouth moved with mine until we fell into an intimate dance oflips and tongue, and a ton of heat. So much heat. He stoked the fire with histalented hands, moving them up and down my sides, drawing me closer, teasing,tempting… seducing.
When he trailedkisses along my jawline and down the column of my neck, I gasped for breath inan effort to calm my racing heart. He didn’t let me take much of a break beforehis mouth came right back to mine as greedy for me as I was for him.
Time passed, but Iwas lost to it—lost to this man. This man that was not cocky, but confident andsuccessful. This man that was not inconsiderate and rude, but loyal to thosethat he cared about, wounded from past hurt, and so unbelievably thoughtful.
This man that wasso completely different than I’d assumed.
His kisseseventually slowed and he reluctantly pulled back, but he didn’t go too far. Hekept his head bent low, touching his forehead to mine. His hands stayed spread overmy ribs, holding me close, reminding me of how intimate we had just been.
He let out a shakybreath. “Finally.”
I let out asurprised laugh. “Finally?”
Straightening, hegazed down at me. “I’m not sure I can remember a time when I didn’t want tokiss you.”
My already poundingheart jumped excitedly in my fluttering chest. My insides were a mess ofadrenaline and endorphins, and way too much feeling. “You haven’t known me forthat long,” I reminded him.
He took anotherstep back, his hands grabbing mine. “True. But you of all people know I’m notknown for my patience.”
I shook my head athim, feeling some of my spine return. “Did you get it out of your system?”
He always respondeddifferently than I thought he would. For instance, I expected hurt or anger, oreven mild irritation at the very least after a snarky comment like that.Instead, that one side of his mouth lifted in an affectionate half-smile and hesaid, “Not even a little bit.”
I gulped making astraight-up audible sound that reminded me of a cartoon. “I have work to do.”
“Get to it then,”he ordered. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
Not sure what tothink of him or that kiss, I disentangled my hands from his and said, “Okay.”That was my genius response. After one of the best meals of my life, one of themost interesting conversations of my life and by far the best kiss of my life,I ended the night with a dorky, “Okay.”
Ugh.
This was Ezra’sfault somehow. I blamed the sexy restaurateur that had effectively turned mymind and my resolve to hate him to mush.
I left Ezra andpractically ran to my car in an attempt to escape. Keeping my fingers pressedto my lips the entire drive home, I tried to hold on to the feeling of himkissing me for as long as possible. Just in case it never happened again, justin case Ezra came to his senses and wanted nothing to do with me ever again.
When I got home, Ididn’t paint all night like I wanted to. I didn’t even dwell on Ezra’s kiss andrelive every single second of it like Ireallywanted to.
No, I worked.
And I hated everysecond of it.
It was only when Iwent to bed three hours later that I let myself check my email and finally,finallygave into the butterflies andgooey feelings, and the uncertainty of what all of this meant.
From: [email protected]
Date: April 3, 2017 23:18:45 EST
