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I leaned into her, pressing her back against the pillar. I didn’t give her an out. I knew her. I’ve watched her for years. Yes, she was shy and quiet, but she was also a fighter. I knew her body language. I knew what she looked like when she was happy, when she was sad. When she was angry. And now, I knew what she looked like when she was aroused. If she didn’t want this, she’d make sure I knew it. But there wasn’t anything about her that told me she didn’t want this.
Then, she sealed her fate.
“Are you going to kiss me, Dante?”
Her breathless words tempted me more, but was she teasing me? I hated being teased, and I especially hated it coming from her.
“I don’t like to be teased, baby girl.”
She shook her head firmly. “Not teasing. Asking. Another question for you.”
“I’m going to count down. If you don’t want this, leave. Ten.”
“Maybe...” she hesitated.
“Nine.” I leaned closer.
“Maybe, I do want it.”
“Eight.”
“But I’m scared.”
My hand circled her throat and she gasped slightly. Her mouth parted.
“Don’t be scared. Seven. It’s just a kiss.”
I stroked the column of her throat and felt her swallow against my palm. “Six.”
“No.” Her eyes widened. She shook her head more firmly. “You’re wrong, Dante.”
“Five.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. It’s not just a kiss.”
“Four.”
“It could never be just a kiss. Not with you.” She breathed the words more than she said them. I took her face between my hands and tipped her head up.
“Three.”
“Dante...”
Fuck.
Her sigh. Her eyes. The way her body swayed into mine. She begged me to kiss her. My grip on her face tightened and I pulled her head towards me, angling her just the way I wanted her. She was right.
This was more than a kiss.
It was my surrender.
“Two.”
She closed her eyes. I was so caught up in how beautiful she looked waiting for my lips to find her that I barely noticed the light grip she had on my forearms. Then she slowly bit her bottom lip, like she couldn’t stand the wait either.
“One,” I whispered against her mouth.
She went soft against me as I feathered a light kiss over her lips. Her grip on my forearms tightened and my muscles flexed in response. I should have ended it there, but the touch of her lips, soft, slightly moist, long ago void of any gloss or unnatural shine, was more than I could resist. My surrender continued as I gave in to the beginning of every wicked fantasy I’d ever had about kissing her.
I raised my head from the lightest kiss I’d ever given a woman. It was nice, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I growled before my hands left her face, reached around her back and pulled her roughly against me.
“Goddamn you, Noemi. Why the fuck didn’t you stay gone?”
My lips crashed into hers, forcing her head back. I had a quick thought of mercy. My hand slid to the back of her skull to keep from banging her head against the stone as I ravaged her mouth. If she thought her little whimper would discourage me, she was wrong. Short of shoving me away, which she did not do, I wouldn’t have stopped kissing her if a meteor streaked across the sky and landed beside us in the backyard.
