But he’d made mistakes, too. He’d already fallen for—and been left by—one woman who hadn’t wanted the life he envisioned for himself. He was setting himself up for it to happen again.
Was he wrong? Was it worth giving up on his own image of peace and happiness to explore what he might have with Gina?
She’d never ask it of him. Perhaps because she would never do it for him.
It was too late anyway. He was already in too deep. He’d take what he could get and suffer the consequences later.
He leaned in to kiss her.
Twenty-Two
Kissing Gina was an all-encompassing experience, and Stone never wanted it to end. She wrapped herself around him like a vine, fusing her mouth to his and kissing him back with fervor. She tasted like ginger candies and a tinge of desperation. It was the last bit that made him pull back and smooth his fingertips down her cheek.
“Shh. Slow down.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, which quivered. “You’re always going a hundred miles per hour.”
She shook her head. “I can’t slow down. If I do…”
“What will happen?”
Melting against him, she pressed her face into his neck and whispered, “My thoughts will catch up to me.”
What was happening between them was terrifying, but necessary, too. They both had stuff they needed to let out. Maybe that was what mattered more than the future—creating a safe space where they could say the things they were scared to say, and feel what they were afraid to feel.
“Why is that bad?” he asked.
“Because they’re conflicting messages. Stay. Leave. I don’t know what to do.”
He understood. The same conflict raged in him, but on a bigger scale. “What do you want, Gina?”
She lifted her head and met his gaze dead on. “I want to stay.”
“All night?” They’d never done that. She wouldn’t allow it at her apartment.
She nodded. His chest swelled. Finally, he’d hold her in his arms all night.
He released the clip that held her hair in a messy bun. The dark, shiny mass cascaded down her shoulders. Sifting his fingers through the hibiscus-scented strands, he cupped the back of her head and drew her in for a kiss.
He kept the pace slow, nibbling at her with light caresses and soft licks. She sighed into his mouth and followed his lead.
“What are we doing, Stone?” Her voice was breathy, the question rhetorical. He answered anyway.
“We’re kissing.” He dragged his tongue along her lower lip and was rewarded with a soft moan. “Isn’t that enough?”
She bit her lip, then nodded. Leaning in, she pressed her lips flush against his.
In their outside lives, they were separated by a gulf of responsibilities and conflicting goals. Here, the only things between them were a few pieces of fabric, and it was time to rectify that situation. If this moment was all he had, Stone didn’t want anything between them.
Most of the time they went fast. Tonight, she would stay. They had time. No one would interrupt them.
He kept the kiss light and teasing as he skimmed his thumbs under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was warm and smooth. He wanted to flip her over and trace the path his fingers took with his tongue, but the move would dislodge the ice pack draped over his knee. Instead, he lifted her until she straddled his hips.
He’d been hard since their first kiss by the door, but with her warm ass on his lap, he was a goner. He shifted his hips to thrust against her, then winced when the movement made his knee twinge.
It was her turn to shush him. “I’ll do all the moving tonight.” She rocked against him, her agile spine and hips undulating in a rhythm designed to drive him mad. He groaned and gripped her thighs.
“Remember when you made me grab your ass in rehearsal?” he said with a growl, nuzzling her neck.
“How could I forget? My panties were wet the rest of the day.”
