“Wow,” I breathed.
“What?”
“You should have told me.”
His brow furrowed. “Told you what?”
“That you’re perfect. I wasn’t mentally prepared for it.”
He rolled his eyes and huffed, but the corners of his lips curved up in a smile and my heart stopped beating.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes flicking between mine and my lips for a long moment before he nodded.
My lips brushed his, silently whispering my deepest desires. Then they connected. Soft but certain. A kiss that wasn’t rushed, that wasn’t a stepping stone to something else but its own moment. Something sparked in my chest, grew, exploding like fireworks.
Maybe I was a hopeless romantic, but I believed every first kiss meant something. A first kiss told you if there was a connection. It told you if there would be more kisses just like it. Maybe even better ones. A first kiss tasted like hope and new beginnings. It tasted like potential. I’d had many in my life, but this one… this one tasted like mylastfirst kiss.
I kissed him again. Again. My lips craving him the moment they parted from his. His hands brushed over my sides and found a home there as he pushed up into me, craving this as much as I was. Did he feel it too?
Something I’d been missing slotted into place, and I knew I’d leave here today with more of me than I’d ever been. That every kiss with him would give me another piece of home.
I didn’t know how long passed with us just kissing, slow and deep, until he pushed me back and I almost fought him for more. His cheeks were rosy, his lips pink and plump. I wanted them always to be kiss-swollen like that.
“Beautiful,” I whispered, and he smiled. Fuck, he had a perfect smile. “Are you a model?”
His brow twitched, eyes narrowing. “You… you don’t know who I am?”
My chest constricted with a sudden panic. Was he someone famous? Should I have known? He’d known who I was when we first met. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”
His face was unreadable, and I couldn’t gauge just how much I’d fucked this up. But then he laughed. Even his laugh was beautiful.
“Don’t apologize.” He smiled. “That’s fine.Goodeven.”
Well,thatraised more questions. “Tell me. Please?”
He considered that, one of his hands coming up to brush through my hair—a simple gesture that I’d come to find incredibly soothing. It sent tingles from my scalp down my body.
“You can call me Harpy.”
“Harpy,” I repeated, and he nodded.
“But I prefer Sir.”
I smiled. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.”
My chest filled with warmth. His fingers continued combing through my hair and I wondered, now that we’d seen each other, if he’d be willing to meet me outside this place. So that I could kiss him and hold him and he could run his fingers through my hair just like this until we fell asleep. Together. In my bed. Or his.
I opened my mouth to suggest it—
“I should go.” He spoke before I could. My disappointment must have been obvious on my face, because he sighed. “I know, pup. I have to get up early for work tomorrow. I shouldn’t have come out on a work night, but… I had to see you.”
I exhaled heavily and nodded, wishing again that we could just fall asleep wrapped up in each other instead of both leaving here alone. “We can still meet on Friday, though?”
He nodded.
“Or sooner, if you wanna. I’ll even blow off my family dinner. Ma would kill me, but it’d be worth it.”
