Page 51 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

He rested his forehead against mine, his smile fading into something softer.

“I don't like it.”

“You ain't gotta like it.”

“I don't.”

I brushed my nose against his.

“I'll be back before you know it.”

He didn't answer. He just looked at me, his eyes roaming over my face like he was trying to memorize every little thing.

“You better.”

“I will.”

His mouth found mine before I could say anything else. The kiss was slow, unhurried, like he was trying to steal a few more minutes before I walked out that door.

A horn blared outside.

I smiled against his lips before pulling back.

“That’s Drayla.”

He let out a long sigh.

“She always got the worst damn timing.”

I laughed.

“You just don't want me to leave.”

“Damn right.”

Another horn echoed through the driveway.

I reached for my bag, but Kyrie caught my wrist before my fingers touched the handle.

“Hold up.”

“What?”

He stepped into my space until there wasn't even an inch between us.

“Come here.”

I laughed.

“So greedy.”

“When it come to my wife?” A slow grin spread across his face. “Every damn time.”

Before I could tease him again, he kissed me one more time, slow enough to make me question whether I really needed to leave just yet.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine.

“Call me when y'all get there.”