“My grandmother grabbed me before I could reach it. Gave me the lecture of a lifetime about looking versus touching.” She fingered the jade pendant through her shirt. “She knew, didn’t she? About all of this.”
“I think so. The Kunlun jade, her warnings about hungry things.” His thumb kept tracing patterns. “She was trying to prepare you.”
“She told me to always wear it. That it would keep me safe.”
“She was right.”
They sat in silence. The city hummed below. His fingers kept moving on her arm, tracing patterns that made it hard to think.
“We should practice kissing,” Ava said.
“Probably.”
Neither of them moved.
He turned to look at her. She turned to look at him. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then back up. The moment stretched.
Then he cupped her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone. Slower than in the conference room. Deliberate.
“May I?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned in and kissed her softly. Testing. She kissed him back, and he made a sound against her mouth and pulled her closer, one hand sliding into her hair, the other finding her waist.
She opened for him. The kiss deepened, turned urgent. He tasted like wine and she wanted more of it, wanted more of him. Her fingers curled into his shirt, dragging him closer until there was no space left between them.
His hand tightened in her hair, angling her head back. She gasped and he swallowed the sound, kissing her harder. His other hand slid up her spine, pressing her against him.
She couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember why this was supposed to be practice.
She swung a leg over, straddling his lap, and felt him hard beneath her. His hips jerked up involuntarily and he groaned into her mouth, a sound that shot straight through her.
“Wait.” He caught her hips, holding her still. “Ava.”
“What?” She was breathing hard. So was he. His pupils were blown wide, his gaze gone molten.
“We need to stop.”
“Why?”
His grip tightened on her hips. She could feel him fighting for control.
“Because in about thirty seconds, I’m going to forget this is fake.”
She went still.
Then she climbed off his lap, face burning, and stood.
“The guest room,” she said. “I should—yeah.”
“Ava…”
“Goodnight, Victor.”
She walked down the hall and closed the guest room door behind her. Leaned against it.
Fifty days.
