“Yes,” I admit.
I can see the pain on his face. His lips are turned down.
He takes a step back. “What do you want to do next?”
“Why is it you thought Lennon was behind the wheel instead of London? I remember you saying something about the way I drove. How would you know that if you weren’t there?”
“I have a friend on the police force. I saw footage from traffic cameras,” he admits.
“Well, then I want to see it too. And the car. I need to know what the police have,” I tell him.
“Yeah, sure. If you think you can handle it.”
He starts to step back even further but I grab his hand.
“Kiss me, Dash.”
“What?” he asks in surprise as his eyes widen, and his brows shoot up.
“I want to see how kissing you feels.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he says.
“Why? Wouldn’t you be able to tell Lennon’s kiss from London’s?” I ask.
“I’d like to think so, under normal circumstances, but this is anything but normal. My heart could make me feel something not true because of how desperate I am for you to be Lennon. That’s not fair to either of us.”
“I understand. But I don’t think I care. I’m sorry, I know it’s selfish. But I need to see for myself. I need to try to trust my heart to know what’s true.”
He closes his eyes, and I think he’s going to deny me, but instead, he pulls me flush against him and leans toward my face. His hands leave my waist to gently frame my cheeks as he stares into my eyes. I’m mesmerized by this man. I feel it before his lips graze mine.
His lips lightly touch mine before actually kissing them. There’s a spark, like he’s about to light me on fire and burn me with every touch of his skin against mine. I throw my right hand around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue flicks against the seam of my lips, begging for entry.
Once I open for him, his kiss is all that exists. He ravages my mouth and I’m at his mercy.
I pull back to search his eyes again. “Dash,” I practically moan.
“Lennon,” he breathes out the name.
“Don’t stop.”
He picks me up gently and takes me over to the couch. “Can you straddle me, or will it hurt too much,” he asks.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
He sits down and then helps me sit on his lap, taking great care to not hurt my hip. I stare at him for a moment when I start to feel the sting of pain on my left side. He must notice becausehe helps me stand before trading places with me on the couch. He lets me lie beneath him and he covers my body with his, but he’s careful not to put much weight on me.
“Is this okay?’ he asks.
I nod and pull his face back to mine. He continues kissing my lips and eventually trails kisses down my neck. It drives me wild, and I want him right now.
My hand trails down between us until I feel the hard evidence of his desire. He stops kissing me and leans his forehead against mine.
“We should stop, babe.”
“Why? I want you and you clearly want me.”
“That’s true, but it’s not fair to confuse your heart by using your body to feel something. Besides, you probably aren’t cleared for sex right now with being in physical therapy. Your pelvis was crushed.”
