Her eyes pop out due to the last part of my sentence. Many people give spare sets of keys to neighbors for emergencies. Giving keys to the neighbor that you kissed senseless? Might feel like a different deal.
“Oh. Sure. If you don’t mind.”
I chuckle to myself. “What is the worst that can happen? You walk in on me in a towel?”
“I mean…” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You could be in no towel.”
Stepping closer, I can’t let that comment go. “Has me in no towel crossed your mind?” I’m trying to rile her.
She is on to me and rolls her eyes and drops her arms. “Can we switch topics, please?” sheimplores.
“Fine. But you know what topic we’re going to talk about.”
She begins to saunter further into my home where the front hall joins the open-plan living room. “We kissed. It happened. That’s that.” She wants to sound adamant, but she’s failing.
In a flash, I grab her arm and reel her into me. “Sure.”
The disappointment in her eyes is apparent, but then I feel my sly smirk begin to creep onto my face. “What about this time?” I don’t hesitate. My mouth crashes down onto hers, and it’s instantly a wildfire.
Is this because I need a release? De-stress from the game season? A little fun? Or because this woman does things to me that are unexplainable.
Truthfully, I know the answer, but right now I don’t want to think.
Our kiss turns fast and powerful. Her hair falls behind her shoulders while our lips pressing hard only fuels us more. I can’t help myself, and I begin to yank and pull on her scarf that is getting in the way, and her fingers fist my shirt. I seize the opportunity to drag my lips down her neck. Her skin is so damn soft. She chases my mouth to rejoin her for a kiss, and I give in.
But the moment my fingers slide down between us and I fumble with a button, she steps back, creating instant distance.
“Shit.” Her hand lands on her forehead.
“What?” Now I’m confused.
“I can’t be making out with you. My son is across the hall,” she screeches in a whisper.
That does make sense. “Right,” I respond simply.
She begins to pace back and forth. “And we did this.” She points between us. “Again.”
“So. It’s a bad thing?” I question as I try to assess her thoughts.
“Not exactly. Maybe unexpected. Or not. I mean, after that kiss the other night, it would kind of be surprising if neither of us wanted a repeat. We seem to be really good at kissing.” She reflects during her ramble.
“True.” I struggle to contain my laugh at her current state because it’s cute and our conversation seems promising.
She looks at me, hopeless, with her cheeks raised from her radiant expression of approval. “What now?”
I shrug. “Not sure.”
“It’s only a kiss or two?—”
“Didn’t even need mistletoe.” I can’t help but make this conversation playful.
She stops mid-pace to give me a hardened look. “Well, kissing is kissing. It’s not like we slept together.”
I tut. “Thatwouldrequire mistletoe.” Why am I teasing her so much? In most cases, I would probably be an ass right now. However, there haven’t really been times when there is a woman in front of me who I have respect for and want to kiss her all over again.
“Cute,” she replies dryly.
I completely ease into a smile. “I’m not sure what you want me to do right now.”
