“Difficult in that I don’t think I can hold out another second,” Smith says, his lips brushing mine on the last word. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lean up and press my lips against his. I want him to want me as badly as I want him. The feelings are so intense I have to close my eyes to block out one sense.
“Don’t hold out,” I whisper. “You can’t hide forever.” When I feel his hands on the sides of my face, I open my eyes. “Smith,” I finish.
Instead of responding, he nods and rubs his thumb along my lower lip and ends by pulling it down to open my mouth.
I’m hyperaware of this moment. I know it’s when everything changes. The setting sun plays peekaboo through the trees next to us, and the sounds of the children’s shrill laughter lift on a slight breeze. Smith leans down and brushes his lips against mine back and forth. I taste his breath as mine mingles with his. My head, held still in his hands, is at his mercy. When I’m sure it’s going to happen, I wrap my hands around his waist and pull my body against his. The muscles he’s worked so hard to rehabilitate mold against me as if they were made to fit with mine.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he says. And then he does. Before I can respond. Before I can scream at the top of my lungs,Yes! Finally. Please. Kiss me and never stop, ourlips crash together in a hurried violence. It’s a large amount of pent-up sexual frustration culminating in our mouths colliding—becoming one. After all of our interviews, my mind wandering to his perfect moving lips I could only dream about tasting, I finally get them. His tongue seeks mine out as his hands tilt my head to the side to ease us into a better angle.
I clutch the back of his shirt, tugging him into me until I think I may be hurting him. He releases my head and picks me up, turns so his back is against the tree, and continues his assault from here. My legs wrap around his waist, and in the midst of this frenzied lust filled with stolen breaths and shared emotions, his erection pressing against me, I decide that Smith Eppington is the only person I want to kiss for the rest of my life.
He’s my morphine, the solitary reason my heart beats fast and slow in any single moment. I might as well be strung like a puppet and marched into an arena naked. This is how I feel when he asserts his control—his dominance—over me. There are so many things I want to tell him, but neither of us wants to be the first to break away from this moment of pure bliss. I’ve never been kissed like I’m oxygen, like I’m the reason one lives, kissed like I alone can keep a heart pumping. This is what I feel when Smith finally moves from my lips andtrails his wet mouth down the side of my neck. Jutting my hips further, I seek out his hard bulge and wish we were naked. I wish we were back home in the one bed in our house.
I wish he were my first. I wish he were my last. I pray he will be the latter. He lets me slide down to my feet but keeps me against his body. Our kiss is broken, but emotions are running so high I can scarcely catch my breath. Gazing into his eyes, I find myself lost and found at the exact same time.
“And right before my eyes, one kiss tilted the earth,” Smith says, flicking his gaze to different spots on my face, like he’s cementing it to memory. “I don’t know what it is,” he says. His breathing is ragged as he drags a hand through his hair and promptly returns to touching me—light touches on my arm, my neck, the sides of my face, and ever so gently grazing his palms over my breasts on top of my dress.
“I know,” I say. Licking my lips, I lock my arms around his neck. “This is what it’s like in romance novels.” When it’s real.
Smith smiles and shakes his head, still entranced with gazing at me piece by piece.
Because he can, he leans down and kisses me once more. And it’s sweet this time—bittersweet. He doesn’t, but I know how some romance novels end.
And it’s not always with happily ever after.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Smith
It doesn’t feellike I thought it would. It feels better. Carina tastes like victory, solace, and truth. I can’t stop staring at her, devouring every nuance of perfection. The high-pitched squeals of the children are drowned out by the sound of my heartbeat. They told me it stopped before I arrived at the hospital after my accident. Literally, I was dead—flatlined—sleeping with the angels. Scanning the planes of her face, rose-colored lips, and her soulful eyes, I realize why I came back.Her.
“A penny for your thoughts?” I ask, utterly lost in my own.
Tucking her hair behind her ears, she leans in to kiss me. “My thoughts are worth more than a penny,” she replies, her wet mouth against mine. “But I’ll tell you anyway.” Carina pulls back but keeps her body entwined with mine. I’d take her right here and now if I weren’t a stronger man. With one kiss, I’m convinced this woman is the reason I was born.
She strokes my lips with one finger. I feel that one small touch in every nerve ending in my body. “I’m thinking that you’re an excellent kisser. You didn’t forget how to do that.” Her grin is intoxicating. I clench my teeth together to control the animal urges coiling every muscle in my body. If I had felt even an ounce of this with Megan, perhaps I would have tried harder for her and our dismantled relationship. As it stands, the emotions coursing through me are enough to bring a grown man to his knees—commit felonies.
I shake my head. “I’ve practiced this in my mind dozens of times,” I explain. Thousands. She doesn’t need to know that creepy statistic. It’s the first time she’s mentioned my amnesia outside of interview questions. Her mouth drops open, her white teeth peeking out, and I take advantage. I let my lips find hers and close my eyes with a relieved groan. “And not even in my well-practiced dreams did it feel this good. Tell me you feel this.”
Holding her chin, I run my tongue along her bottom lip. Goose bumps rise on her skin.
“I feel it,” she whispers. “The magnetic pull that surrounds us at any given moment didn’t lie.” She swallows loudly. “It’s terrifying.”
“What you mean to say is it’s amazing. Maybe fantastic?” I ask.
“But still terrifying,” she replies, smiling. Her eyes dance, and she bites her lip. “To have so much to lose. Tohave so much. I’ve never had that before. I thought I did, but you’ve made me realize I was sorely mistaken. Also…” Carina says, trailing off.
My breathing pace speeds up even further. “Also what?” I say. I lead her from our hidden spot behind the trees, but I never let my gaze flicker from her face. Megan was always easy to read, her emotions plainly on display. Carina, as a result of a hard life, hides much.
She keeps her hand in mine, and her large brown eyes tilt down a touch. “The also being what’s it going to be like when we have sex?” A small grin pulls the corner of her mouth as she whispers the words.
“That’s why you’re terrified,” I say. “Sex.” When I say it out loud, I realize I’m the one who should be terrified of sex. Not because I’m concerned it won’t be earthshaking, but because I’ve only been with one woman. Megan instructed me on how I used to perform, on what she liked. “I can assure you I have nothing that will terrify you.” When she laughs, I wink.
“From what I’ve felt, it could be scary,” Carina says, raising one brow. She tries and fails to hold a straight face. My dick responds to her sentiments immediately.
I clear my throat. “Don’t tempt me. I’ll take you upstairs to the bedroom I jacked off in at least a million times and scare the ever-loving shit out of you,” I say. “I mean that in the most sexual way possible,” I add on. Legitimately scaring her is a true fear of mine. “Then taking it slow will be out of the question and I’ll be upsetwith my willpower.”
She squeezes my arm. “Your willpower is stronger than it should be. I’m taking your clothes off as soon as we get home, Smith. Will you teach me about willpower then?”
