“Moveouttamy way, woman.”
“Tell me.What is it?”I demanded.
“Outtamy way,” he clipped.
I didn’t get out of his way.
I got up on my toes and got in his face.
“Tell me!”I snapped.“If it’s not guilt,what is it?”
“You wanna know what it is?”he whispered, the tonesinister.
I shivered at the tone, but still found it in me to nod myhead.“Yeah.I wanna know.”
He was still whispering when he replied, “This is what itis.”
And then his arms were around me and his mouth was on mine.
For a second, I was stunned.I hadn’t been touched by a mansince…well,him.
And then his tongue touched my lips, I opened them, and itswept inside, and it wasn’t like I’d used up ten years of hormones making mykid.
It was like I was fifteen again and the cutest boy at schoolwas kissing me.
But I wasn’t fifteen, and Darius wasn’t sixteen.
This was different.
This was better.
Muchbetter.
He had one arm so tight around my back, it was like hewanted my body to fuse with his.
His other hand was at the base of my neck, fingers up in myhair, holding me steady for the onslaught of his kiss, when there was no way Iwas going to do anything but go for the gusto and kiss him back.
Something I did.
When his hand strayed down to my behind, how much betterthis kiss was hit me, and how it could get so much better hit me too.
Fury washed through me.Fury and jealousy and misery, alethal mix of poison permeating my every cell, and I tore from his arms.
He was breathing heavily, and I was breathing heavily, andwe were staring at each other.
His stare was wary.
Mine was enraged.
“Seems you got plenty of opportunity to get really good atthat,” I jibed.“Guess you weren’t pining for me, hunh?”
The wariness went out of his features, the blankness settingback in.
But he didn’t answer, not until he walked by me, and Ipivoted to watch him move to the door.
He stopped at it and turned back to me.
“You move, last day of the month.”
