He looked at her with a heavy, dark gaze. His eyes traveled from her flushed cheeks to her lips and stopped.
She saw him freeze, as if fighting himself.
And then his scent filled her senses, surrounding her, sinking into her.
Nina instinctively ran her tongue over her lips.
Heat flared inside her, sudden and fierce. His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly at her waist.
And in that moment, something between them shifted. The tension that had been building all this time finally snapped.
She didn’t know who leaned in first. Their lips met sharply like a flash of light. Uncertain. On an inhale. And instantly wild, electric, unreal.
The world disappeared. There was no street. No cars. No streetlights. Only his lips on hers. Soft. Warm. Hungry.
Nina grabbed the front of his jacket, as if she wouldn’t be able to stay on her feet otherwise. Jasper leaned in closer, his free hand sliding along her back, pulling her in tighter like he was afraid she might disappear.
And that was it.
She burned. Nina reached for him, breathless, like there wasn’t enough air, like all the oxygen in the world now lived in his lips, in his body, in this impossible closeness.
Everything inside her was on fire. Right here, right now, she no longer remembered who she was—or who he had been.
And then he pulled away.
So abruptly that she didn’t immediately register the distance. Two full steps between them.
Jasper was breathing hard, his eyes almost unhinged. In them, she saw something she’d never seen before—fear, fury, guilt.
“Damn it…” he whispered, running a hand through his hair.“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Nina didn’t even have time to exhale.
He stepped back. Then another step.
“I won’t come near you again,” he said hoarsely.“I swear, Nina.”
And without giving her a chance to say a single word, he turned and walked away.
No, he fled.
His car was still parked near the restaurant, but he headed down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.
Nina stayed where she was—stunned, disoriented. Her lips burned. Her heart slammed wildly against her ribs.
She didn’t understand what she was feeling. Didn’t understand why she hadn’t pushed him away. Why she hadn’t slapped him.
And why, instead of fear or disgust, what she felt was… desire.
She needed to see a therapist.
No, better yet, a psychiatrist, because there was a very real chance she’d lost her mind.
Later, she lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling without blinking. The window was open, night air drifting into the room. Her thoughts refused to quiet down.
Her fingers slid to her lips. They felt scorched by his touch. Nina brushed them with her fingertip.
That kiss had burned itself under her skin. Etched itself inside her.
