I meet his eyes.
Really look at him.
"And you changed the rules today," I say.
"Yeah," he says. "I did."
"So what happens now?"
He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from my face.
His touch is gentle.
Intentional.
"Now," he says softly, "we stop pretending this was ever just an agreement."
My breath catches.
"Gabriel—"
He kisses me.
Slow at first.
Careful.
Then deeper.
The kiss deepens instantly, like neither of us is interested in pretending this is slow or careful.
His hands slide to my waist.
Mine grip his shirt.
The kiss shifts from tentative to hungry. His hand slides up my back, pulling me closer against him.
Then he stops.
Not abruptly.
But deliberately.
He presses his forehead to mine.
I wait.
"Next time," he says, "it’s just going to be me making love to my wife."
Butterflies explode in my stomach.
"That might be the hottest thing you've ever said," I whisper.
We kiss again.
Slower now.
Less desperate.
