“Yeah, friends.”
“And if I told you I didn’t want to be friends?” he asks, brow raised.
My heart drops. Of course he doesn’t want to be friends. I mauled his face and then nearly got myself killed again. And he had to save me. Again.
I nod stiffly and step back out of his hold. “Right, okay. We don’t have to be friends. Friendly acquaintance is fine.” I ramble off, not sure how else to handle this situation.
“Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t want to be your friend, Liv.” My chin drops down so I’m staring into his chest, hopefully hiding my emotions from him. He tucks his finger under my chin and lifts it, forcing my eyes to meet his. “I don’t want to be your friend, because I want to kiss you again. Andfriendsdon’t kiss like that. Do they?” His eyebrows rise in a challenge.
My heart soars back up from where it sunk and withered away at the thought of him not wanting to be my friend. Andthen all that goes through my mind is that I also very much want to kiss him again.
“Do they?” he asks again, a smirk kicking up on his lips.
I shake my head.
“Use your words,staellara.”
“No, friends don’t kiss like that,” I answer, voice rough.
“Good,” he says before using the finger under my chin to tilt my face up to meet his lips where they drop over mine.
If our first kiss was a raging inferno, this one is soothing like the ocean. Earlier we were rabid, feral. Grasping at each other and fighting for dominance. But this one? It ebbs and flows like a wave along the shore. It’s a gentle exploration.
He moves the hand from beneath my chin, brushing softly along my cheek as it finds its way to the back of my head. His other hand lands on the curve of my waist where it holds tight as if I’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold me close. I sink further into his hold, drawing a low rumble of affirmation from his chest. My hands begin tracing a path up his chest and this time I don’t allow myself the chance to black out. I’m hyper focused on every ridge and hard plane of his muscled chest as they work their way up to loop around his neck. My fingers twine their way into the dark curls at the nape of his neck, holding him just as close to me.
I pull myself further into his hold. His hand releases my waist, arm snaking fully around the small of my back, tightening his grip. Teeth nip gently at my bottom lip eliciting a soft moan. With one final tug on my lip, Bastian slowly drags his away from mine, pulling back to look me in the eye. His pupils are blown wide, turning the normally bright blue eyes a shade of navy instead. His lips are kiss-swollen and kicked up into a smirk.
“Still wish to be friends?”
“Oh, shut up,” I say with a shove at his shoulder that pushes him nowhere.
