Page 86 of A Perfect Fit

“I swear, my sewing machine went a little crazy at one point, but that’s a story for another day. Again, if I had more time …”

I reach out my hand to cup her face, brushing my thumb along her jaw.

So fucking beautiful.

So goddamn irresistible.

So mine.

I don’t want to fight the temptation anymore.

I want to have her lips against mine. I want to taste her again because that brief kiss at the reunion was nowhere near enough, and yet it’s all I can think about.

I want her so badly, desperately, hopelessly.

All of her.

“Isabelle?” My voice comes out raw, almost hoarse. I wonder if she can sense that my heart’s beating like crazy with what I’m about to say and do next.

“Yes?”

The breathlessness in her voice makes me think I’m not the only person who’s affected right now.

“Just shut up and let me kiss you.”

Her lips part, but no words come out, her gaze falling to my lips instead.

Without another word, my face gravitates toward Isabelle’s, and my lips lock with hers.

Chapter Twenty-Three

ISABELLE

There are many things in life that can be frustrating—slow internet, waiting for a video to buffer, battling through heavy rain with an umbrella that keeps flipping inside out, someone purposely spoiling the ending of a book or movie, making a dash for the subway or elevator, only to see the doors close right in front of you, and so on and so forth.

But there are also many things in life that remind you of the beauty in the everyday—finishing a book or movie that leaves you with a warm and fuzzy feeling, getting home in time before it starts raining, someone remembering something small you said, a random act of kindness, mastering a new skill, snuggling into a cozy bed, and so on.

Jackson’s lips against mine feels like all those things and much more.

Above all, kissing him feels like finding a home that’s been there waiting for me all along.

My hand toys with Jackson’s hair, and I’m lost in the sensation of his lips against mine, like it’s everything I desperately want—and need—more of. One of Jackson’s hands moves lower down to my waist while the other slides up my body, and to say that he is a good kisser is a complete understatement.

Jackson’s tongue teases my bottom lip, and my lips part open with a breathless moan.

We stagger inside his hotel room, our bodies entangled and my tote bag dropping to the carpeted floor.

A groan rumbles in his throat, and he kicks the door shut. A rush of exhilaration floods through my veins, as I know that we’re now truly alone.

As our tongues swirl together, his hands roam my body, and his mouth consumes mine in a way that says I’m wholly and only his. Heat thrums in places I thought couldn’t be possible, and a throbbing sensation pulses between my legs.

Jackson pulls apart from me, his breathing labored as he stares into my eyes. “I’d resisted the urge to kiss you all night, but I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I … I didn’t realize how much I wanted this until you kissed me,” I gasp.

My confession immediately stirs something within him because the next moment, he pins me against the wall in swift motion, lust dominating his brown eyes as he scans my face.

He’s thinking, contemplating, assessing what to do next. What to do to me next, to be specific.