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Twyla
I’d kissed her.
I just couldn’t seem to help myself. That scent, warm and alluring, was just so...delicious.I’d wanted to absorb it, drown myself in it. I still did. I had half a mind to drag her down onto that single crate of straw and straddle her waist while I took her lips.
My body burned in places that craved her touch.
But...my cheek smarted. I raised my hand to it and tried to clear the fog around my brain.
“What—what just happened?”
Cedra took a step back from me, putting some much-needed distance between our bodies. I wasn’t sure about hers, but mine was definitely overheated. I didn’t have to look down to know that every hair on my body stood at its edge, poised and waiting for more...
More of something that wasn’t forthcoming, since I assumed Cedra had just slapped me across the face.
The blood was rushing to my cheeks now. I finally understood what had happened—I’d literally thrown myself at her and she’d had no choice but to physically push me off with a slap.
Rejected.
I took one step away from her, then another, and before I knew it, I was shutting the kitchen door behind me, Cedra’s voice just a whisper in the wind.
Tears burned the corners of my eyelids but I fought them, taking deep and steadying breaths.
What happened in there?
I remembered going in to hand her the thermos. Then the damn wood cut my finger, and Cedra had offered to heal me. And then the scent had hit me, strong and heady...almost like a drug. I could still recall the way it swept around me, surrounded me, pulling me towards Cedra like a hovercraft pulling into its assigned lot. I remembered the feel of her hands on my waist, her lips slanting across my mouth, her tongue tracing the seam of my lips. If she’d let me, I’d have happily sucked on her tongue and moaned into her mouth in utter bliss.
But why? Because of some scented drug I wasn’t able to resist? Would it happen again?
My stomach twisted at the thought. The mark of Cedra’s rejection still stung my cheek. I couldn’t go through that again. She was a very beautiful woman, but it didn’t mean it was acceptable for me to throw myself at her. What had I been thinking?
But that was the thing... I hadn’t been thinking. I didn’t think I was capable of a single thought in that moment. I’d just wanted to feel—feel her all around me like a flame. Standing alone in the kitchen, I still wanted her hands on my heated body.
Calm, I need to calm myself.
I let out a slow breath, trying to release the tension in my body. And then I did it again and again.
It didn’t work.
I groaned as I slid down the back of the door, cradling my head in my hands.
How would I ever face her again? Would she ask me to leave?
