Rushing forward to inspect the bone splinter, I toss my hands into the air in celebration. I turn to face Ari.
“I did?—”
I crash right into his chest. He had followed me to get a look himself. Shocked, I fall backward, bracing for impact.
Ari’s arms fold around my back, pulling me into his embrace. We stand there, chest to chest. Or my chest to his stomach, rather.
“Right on target,” he whispers while keeping eye contact.
“Th… Thanks… I would…”
I’m stuttering.
Our faces are so close. His arms so firm. The space between us is alive, waiting. His face has lost its playful expression.Serious now. Energies drag my face to his. Is that all fate is? Inevitable attraction?
I stand on my toes and give him a light peck on his lips, pulling back to check his reaction.
I hesitate, staying on my toes.
A second passes. Deafening silence. He doesn’t let me go. He doesn’t laugh or joke it off. He just looks into my eyes.
All we’ve been through together. All the moments shared. I’ve been chained, so angry.
All the masks I have been forced to wear. Only with him have I been able to unleash my rage.
The world is cold, but to Ari, I’ve been the cold one. Yet he’s the one I want. Since I saw him under the rainbow. Before that, even. He’s always been on my mind. The target of my emotions.
I should stop. End it with a laugh. Keep him in his place. Deny him. I should.
Fuck it.
I stretch my arms around his neck and tilt my head toward him. Eyes closed, hoping for equal lust.
We connect.
My blood simmers as our lips dance in union. I keep my eyes closed, afraid of an awkward exchange. I want to melt into the moment.
The world narrows to breath and heat. A shiver runs through me, a burning chill.
I widen my lips and stick my tongue forward, pressing it between his. His mouth opens in reaction. He waits for me to lead—doesn’t want to scare me off.
I’m not scared. Not anymore.
My tongue reaches into his mouth, searching for his. They connect. He releases a grunt from deep within. I moan in response.
Communication old as time.
The ice between us melts. My pulse drums in my ears.
He still hasn’t released me from his grip. A hand glides down my back but stops at my tailbone. He pulls his head back, making me open my eyes.
I’m dazed, confused… Boiling. Why did he stop?
“Can I…” His voice is low, hoarse. “Can I touch you?”
What I should say is obvious. I should defend my honor. Repel this scoundrel. Return to my bed and please myself. But the tremor in my belly has a hunger of its own.
“Do what you want,” I whisper.
