I nod slowly, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. “I’m sure.”
For a beat, we just look at each other. Then he leans in again slowly, carefully. His eyes stay locked on mine as he closes the distance, giving me plenty of time to pull away.
But I don’t. I tilt my head up, meeting him halfway.
The moment our lips touch, a shiver rolls down my spine. His lips are soft—so soft—but confident, firm in the way they move against mine like he’s savoring every second, like he’s been holding back and finally let himself give in. My breath catches, and my hands instinctively grip the edge of the couch cushion, trying to ground myself as the whole world tilts beneath me.
He kisses me slowly at first, teasingly, like he’s reading every twitch of my body to make sure this is okay.
Then I feel the soft, deliberate stroke of his tongue tracing the seam of my lips.
A spark igniteslow in my stomach.
He’s asking without asking, coaxing me open, and I don’t even hesitate. I part my lips, welcoming him in, and the kiss deepens into something heavier, something that pulls a sound from the back of my throat I didn’t knowI could make.
His tongue touches mine, slow and exploratory, and the sensation makes my toes curl.
Every nerve in my body lights up, a wave of heat rushing over me like wildfire. His hand finds the side of my neck, his fingers warm against my skin, his thumb brushing along my jaw with a tenderness that makes me dizzy. My heart pounds so hard I swear he must hear it. My fingers twitch, desperate to touch him, to anchor myself to him, but I stay frozen in place, afraid that if I move too fast, I’ll ruin this perfect moment.
I melt into him, every part of me saying yes, yes, yes, and in his kiss, I feel something unspoken—want, yes, but also care. Intention. Restraint. Like he’s holding back just enough to let me lead if I want to.
Like he’s not just kissing me.
He’s learning me.
When we finally break apart, I open my eyes slowly, breathing hard. He’s watching me closely, like he’s trying to read every emotion playing out across my face.
“Still think we need more practice?” he asks with a smirk that’s equal parts heat and teasing.
I laugh, breathless. “Maybe. You know, just to make it convincing.”
His smile softens. “Anytime,mi amor.” And just like that, I know I’m in trouble.
Esteban pulls back slowly, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer before he clears his throat and stands up.
“I want to get to know you better,” he says, walking toward the kitchen. “Now that we got the kiss out of the way, I think we should focus on other important things, likefiguring out what makes you tick.” He opens the freezer and pulls out a pint of cookies and cream ice cream. “We can make a game out of it.”
I sit there, still trying to recover from the kiss that basically melted every functioning cell in my body, watching him move around the kitchen like we didn’t just share the most toe-curling moment of my year. Maybe my entire life.
My eyes trail after him, shamelessly. I can’t help it. His joggers mold to his body in the most unfair way, and when he adjusts himself casually as he reaches for two bowls, I catch a full view of just how well-endowed he is. My face heats instantly, but I don’t look away. Then his back is to me, giving me the perfect view of his perfect ass, and the fact that I’m practically drooling is proof I’m not thinking clearly.
And he has no idea the show he’s putting on.
I cross my legs, trying to gather some dignity, but it’s no use. I’m hot, bothered, and painfully aware that if he offered to go for round two of that kiss, I’d throw the ice cream out the window and climb him like a tree.
He grabs two bowls and spoons, and looks over his shoulder. “Do you want some?”
“Yes,” I say too quickly. “Please.”
The kiss lit me up, and now he’s scooping ice cream like we didn’t just makeout. My brain is spinning.Maybe he’s not into me like that?What kind of man stops a makeout session after one kiss? But then again, I just saw him adjusting his hard cock, so that kiss definitely affected him.
I swallow the disappointment and focus on not looking too affected as he hands me a bowl and sits next to me again, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“So,” he begins between spoonfuls, “I know what you studied. I know you’re building your skincare business andall that. But I want the rest. What do you do for fun? What kind of movies do you like? Music?”
I take a bite of ice cream and try to settle the tornado of questions still spinning in my chest. “Hmm,” I say, licking my spoon, “I love romcoms. Anything that makes me laugh and has a happy ending, I’m all in. I also read alotof romance, like the happily-ever-after, big-feelings, book-boyfriend type of stories.”
“That so?” He grins. “Then Violet and you have a lot in common. Maybe you can start a book club. Where no man is allowed so you can talk about your book boyfriends freely.”
