My author brain thinks about how I would describe a kiss—it’s a terrible habit I have, going into author mode at the most ridiculous times—but I personally think it should go something like this: A romantic kiss is more than just the meeting of lips; it’s a conversation without words, a slow and deliberate exchange of emotions that lingers long after it ends.
Damn, I may have to use that in this new book.
Sebastian breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. “Where’d you go, Liv?” he murmurs. “I feel like I lost you there for a minute.”
And my author brain gets me in trouble again.
“Sorry. I got a little swept up in thinking about how much I like the way you kiss.”
One dark brow arches and I can tell he appreciates the compliment and is trying hard not to preen.
Now it’s up to me to get us back on track, so I caress his jaw before raking my nails through his hair. I love the way his eyes slowly close and the low moan that tells me I’m doing the right thing. And just like that, we’re back.
The world around us fades; even the fake ocean noise softens until all that remains is the heat between us. Slowly, he reaches for me, his fingers brushing against my cheek, tilting my face toward his.
I love looking at him. His face is so handsome to me, and more familiar than it should be after only a handful of days. He whispers my name in that low, rumbly tone and I swear my knees go weak. I lean in, my breath mingling with his, but I don’t kiss him again yet. I’m kind of loving this delicate pause filled with anticipation.
He says my name again and I say his and we both smile as we close the distance. Suddenly, it’s like that last kiss never happened. Well, maybe it did, but it wasn’t nearly as perfect as I told myself it was because this one is so much better. It’s gentle at first—soft, exploring, savoring. The warmth spreads, a slow fire igniting as the kiss deepens. His hand slips to the small of my back, pulling me closer, while my fingers once again thread into his hair, anchoring us together.
Time slows. The kiss is unhurried, a lingering dance of lips that speaks of longing, affection, and something deeper—something unspoken yet understood. There’s a connection here that I know we would have found even without last night’s meeting in the kitchen. I know deep down that this is where I was always supposed to be—with this man. He’s it. He’s the one.
That thought takes hold, and there’s a sigh, a quiet gasp, a moment where we both forget to breathe. And when we finally part, our foreheads rest together, eyes fluttering open, breathless and smiling, as if the world has shifted just slightly—just enough to make everything feel brand new.
And I know without a doubt that I am never going to be the same again.
I’m ready to dive in for another kiss, but Sebastian slowly skims his hands up and down my arms before taking my robe with him and letting it fall to the floor. I shiver with delight and wait for his next touch, but he takes me by the hand and leads me over to the bed.
“Get comfortable, and I’ll bring our dessert to you,” he tells me.
I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little disappointed when he actually walks over and starts making us plates of food. I was hoping for him to whip his shirt off—and his pants—and join me on the bed in just his briefs.
But I guess brownies and wine are a good temporary substitute.
He hands me the wine and I place it on the bedside table, and then he hands me a plate with not only the brownie, but two strawberries. Then he surprises me by excusing himself and going into the bathroom.
Um…okay. I guess I can just sit here. I’m slightly chilled without him to keep me warm and I’m tempted to get under the blankets, but that just seems weird. So…I sit and think warm thoughts until I hear the door open, and Sebastian walks out in a pair of athletic shorts and nothing else.
Hallelujah!
After making himself a plate of food and pouring himself a glass of wine, he’s beside me on the bed. It’s a little sexy and feels a little naughty to be eating in bed, but we both end up shivering and then laughing.
The mood is essentially ruined.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get under the blankets and huddle close while we eat.”
It’s not the worst idea. Plus, huddling close is guaranteed to warm me up.
“We’ll just say we’re hitting pause for a few minutes, okay?” he asks, and I’m in full agreement. “So…why does Loren think tonight’s the night Mike is going to finally set a date?”
“I have no idea. She just seemed so confident about it. Has he said anything to you?”
“Just that he doesn’t know what he’s waiting for since he knows he wants to marry her and have kids. He just didn’t say that he was going to do anything specifically about it tonight.” He feeds me a piece of his brownie, and I do my best to sensually lick the chocolate from his fingers.
When I’m done, I meet his gaze. “Do we really want to talk about Loren and Mike right now?”
“Hell no. I was just trying to find something neutral to talk about until we were both comfortable and…”
“Sebastian?”
