He jerks his head up, studying me intently.
“There’s also a tiny part of me,” I say, voice still trembling despite my best efforts, “that wants to indulge in a little fantasy. High school me hated you, but there was an ugly part of me that also wanted some different attention from you. I thought my life would be better if you thought I was hot.”
“You were,” he rushes to say. His voice lowers in register. “You are.”
The seconds expand. The stillness envelops us as he waits for me to talk. I clear my throat.
“Can I kiss you?” I murmur. “Just to see what it’s like?”
He stills. “Pardon?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t think I could have heard correctly. It sounded like you asked me to kiss you.”
“No, I asked ifIcould kissyou.There’s a difference,” I say.
“So, my punishment here is being nice, buying a dress, and kissing a gorgeous woman? That doesn’t seem like atonement for my crimes.”
I sigh. “Yes or no?”
“Yes.” He swallows. “Obviously.”
I inch closer to him, mindful of the fact that someone could walk, or drive, by. Another gentle breeze blows, ruffling his hair. He smells of cinnamon, like maybe he’s been chewing that flavor of gum. His jawline tightens as I come near. I can’t believe what I’m about to do, but I’m dying to see what happens here.
I’ve always been a sucker for impulsive decisions.
I lay a hand on his shoulder and one on his hip. He watches me, not speaking, like he’s afraid to puncture the tension. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. A rush of desire spreads over me, warming my skin, and judging from the heated look on his face, he knows what I’m feeling. My fingers tense at his waist. He doesn’t touch me, though. He’s waiting for me.
His huff of breath just before my lips touch his will remain stamped in my memory forever. And oh God, now it’s real, we’re doing this. My mouth moves against his, a gentle kiss, then another. We’re soft, restrained, until I press harder, then he groans into my mouth before cupping my face with both hands. I touch my tongue to his, savoring the delicious way he strokes mine with his own. He’s tender. Reverent, like I’m a precious commodity.
I grip the back of his arm and tug him toward me. I want more. Our kisses turn hotter, rougher, more needy as I angle my head.
I roll my hips against his, and he breaks the kiss for a moment to stare at me.
“Fucking hell,” he breathes. He yanks me toward him again.
We’re feverish. Our heads rock back and forth to get at each other. He moans again, an obscene sound that lights me up from within. My hand slides up his back to grasp at his neck, then at a handful of his hair, and that spurs him on. We’re savage, on fire, licking and plundering.
It’s incendiary. An explosion of fireworks in my brain. Mynerve endings sing with each new sensation—his hot lips, his strong hands, his erection where it presses against me. The restless sounds we make.
He hauls me into him as his hands rove over my back, down to my ass, and back up again. I would chastise him, given my assertion about being in control, but I don’t have it in me to care at that moment. My thumb grazes the skin at his waist where I’ve rucked his scrub top up, and he rewards me with a little shudder. I might have taken the damn thing off if it wasn’t for the sound of an engine revving from the street below.
I tear my mouth away, and he starts to follow me until I push a palm against his chest.
We stare at each other. Our chests heave, and my mouth hangs open. That was the hottest kiss of my entire life.
And it was withGrant Wyndham.There are very few people I hate in my life, and he lives at the top of that list.
“That’s it,” I say, still a bit breathless. “I got what I wanted.”
Was that cruel? I don’t even know anymore.
He drops his hands, but his fists are clenched and his chest fills with his deep inhalations. His eyes track over my face, down my body, and back up again. He looks absolutely wrecked by lust. Longing. That’s how I would describe the expression on his face.
And God. My body thrums with wanting, but also with a heady sense of power. To have this man at my mercy produces a thrill I could get addicted to.
I need to cut it off at the root, though, or it will grow like a weed.
