The benefits and costs are weighed against each other. Good decisions are the ones made on good information.
Sometimes they end badly, but they were decisions made well.
Based on facts.
Not feelings.
Not based on a burning longing that will devour me from the inside if I don’t get to touch her again.
It’s a bad decision, and I know it—regardless of the outcome it might have.
But why does it feel so right? Being here. Looking at her.
Her hair sparkles with raindrops in the light from the street behind her, creating a twinkling halo around her smiling face.
“You know...” she says, her gentle voice almost lost in the rain. “I wanted it to be you.”
It hits me right in the chest, and when she reaches out to me, everything I know about decision-making goes out the window. She’s mine if I take her hand now.
So I do.
I pull her in and lift her up to get her as close to me as possible, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Her rain-soaked beautiful face is an inch from mine, and the mild scent of jasmine meets my nose through the summer rain.
She smiles, that big smile that makes both of her dimples show, and I return it. Her hands are in my hair and finally I kiss those soft, plump lips again. This is everything. How could I ever need anything else? A sigh escapes her as she grinds in my arms, her body warm against my torso.
I need all of her. Now.
Walking up the steps to the door again, I keep my eyes on her in my arms, and I hate I have to put her down so she can let us in. Before I do, I press my lips to hers again in a long kiss that makes my throat burn, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t believe I thought I could just ignore her, avoid her, and this would all go away. This woman has turned my insides upside down.
Leaning my forehead on hers, I slowly set her down on her feet. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away,” I whisper.
“I know.” She studies my face, and a smile lingers on her lips. “Will you come inside? My brother’s out with friends. He might come home, but?—”
I press a finger to her lips.
“I’d come inside even if your brother was sitting in the hallway. I’m not leaving you tonight.”
She stifles a laugh by leaning into my hand, and my heart warms. This feels absolutely like the right thing to do.
She unlocks the door, and I expect the dog to come flyingout like last time. But it’s quiet in the hallway as we step inside. The only sound is the rain hammering on the windows.
“No slobbering Frenchie tonight?”
“He’s with Xander. Do you want some tea?” she asks, biting her lower lip.
“No.”
“Good,” she breathes and flings her arms around my neck. I stagger, but quickly regain my balance, wrapping myself around her, holding her tight, as she plants her mouth on mine. She seems as hungry for me as I am for her. Our kisses are frantic, desperate. After what feels like weeks of foreplay, we’re finally together. In the light.
I kick my wet leather shoes off in the hallway, bending so I won’t break contact. “Where to?” I ask in between kisses.
“Oh, umm,” she pulls back. “I’m in the guest room.” She steps onto the stairs, and grabs my hand, tugging lightly. “Come.”
I follow her, and I very vaguely register it’s a nice house. But my attention is on that perfectly shaped arse peeking out from under her dress from this angle.
It takes all my willpower not to grab her and pull her to me, and I stifle a groan.
“This is me.”
