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“Well, you got one, so too bad!”
We are standing toe to toe, scowls on both our faces, before the anger on Philip’s face is replaced by something else, something darker and hungrier.
Before I can move, he has my jaw gripped in his firm hand, and he swoops down to press his lips against mine.
The action is so sudden and unexpected that it takes me by surprise and my lips part in protest.
Using that to his advantage, he uses his tongue to silence me, a slow and thoroughly ravishing kiss that I have no hopes of keeping up with. While I still recall my first kiss with him, this is so different.
It is darker, more intense.
The moan that slips out of me, as he uses his tongue, is beyond my control. He explores every crevice of my mouth, that wet, silky appendage taking its time to tease my tongue, play with it.
What starts out as a gentle kiss quickly moves to deeper waters as he grows more demanding, his mouth eliciting more gasps and moans from me.
I can’t keep up with him, my knees buckling at how thoroughly he kisses me, short circuiting every nerve function in my brain.
I can’t think past how his tongue stokes on mine, an action that I feel is being replicated on my lower body, and when his arm loops around me, pinning me to his hard form, I make no protest.
When he finally pulls away, I am dazed and disoriented, unable to find my footing, gasping for breath.
I feel his chest under my hands and, when I look up, it is only to see his blue gaze, dark with need and smug with satisfaction.
I push him away, my cheeks red with embarrassment at how my lower abdomen is clenching and unclenching with desperation for something more.
“I hate you.”
He tucks his tongue into his cheek.
“Because I kissed you or because you kissed me back?”
My lips purse with thinly veiled anger.
“You stay away from me, Philip. And that includes your hands and your mouth.”
He shrugs.
“I can’t make any promises.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” My voice rises. Philip walks closer to me, making me back away warily.
It amuses him – I see it on his face.
I feel my back hit the wall, He leans over to whisper in my ear, “Like I said, I’m playing for keeps this time, Charlotte. I can’t do that from a distance, now can I?”
My eyes grow wide at how serious he is, and when he pulls away, a small smile flirting with his lips. “Now, come on. I’ll make you something to eat.”
I have no choice but to follow him, my mind in complete disarray.
He takes me to a large kitchen and my mouth almost waters at the latest equipment this place houses. The oven alone is a model I have been eyeing for months, knowing that I can never afford one. My fingers itch to touch it, and I have to physically restrain myself.
I have bigger things to worry about. More important.
This thing with Philip has to be resolved.
He helps me into the seat at the island counter before taking out some eggs. As he moves around in the kitchen, I find myself broaching the topic.
“I don’t understand.”
