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"Hell no," I said. "God knows what you’d do to me in the name of revenge."
"Fine." There was the briefest of pauses, while an expression I couldn't quite place flickered across his face. "Do you regret what happened the night before you left?"
All the heat in my body seemed to rush into my cheeks. "What?" I squeaked.
"I know I told you I didn't want to know. But I lied." He leaned forward. "Tell me the truth. Do you?"
"I—um." How could I possibly answer that? Did I regret it? If one night ended up ruining a twenty-five year friendship, hell yes I would regret it. But could I honestly say I regretted the way he'd made me feel that night? "Pass," I said, feeling the burn in my cheeks. "Give me a different one."
"You can't pass!"
"Can too. Different question, please."
"Okay, fine." He was watching me, his eyes dark pools, the faintest blush of pink staining his own cheeks. "If I kissed you again, would you stop me?"
“I…” My voice was a hoarse whisper. I dropped my gaze to the floor, and the truth tumbled out. "No."
His fingers under my chin were the softest touch, gentle pressure lifting my face, and then his lips pressed against mine. It should have been strange, should have felt wrong, like crossing boundaries that shouldn't be crossed, but it didn't. If anything, it felt familiar, safe, and a rush of desire trembled through me. My mouth opened, and he took it for the invitation it was, his mouth pressing harder, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with mine. He tasted like coffee and chocolate and I moaned, hearing the soft sound he made in response.
He shifted closer, one hand coming around my waist to press against the small of my back, pulling me against him. I raised my hands, one slipping around the nape of his neck as the other gripped his shoulder.
The hand at my back slid under the hem of my shirt, pressing against my skin, and I melted into the touch. His lips moved from my mouth, shifting to my jaw, tracing open-mouthed kisses down my neck to my shoulder. When I felt the gentle pressure of his teeth there, I jerked, the memory of Luca in this same position flooding me with cold reality. With a gasp, I pulled back.
Theo's eyes were huge and dark, his breath coming fast, but he didn't remove his hand from my back.
I couldn't seem to muster the strength to pull away, but I owed him honesty, if nothing else. "I kissed Luca," I blurted. “I…more than once."
Theo's nostrils flared slightly as he drew in a breath, but still he didn't let me go. "Do you…when you were at his house. Did…did you sleep with him?"
"No," I said.
His hand clenched slightly against my waist, the pads of his fingers rough on my skin.
"Do you want to?" Theo asked in a low voice. "Sleep with him?"
I couldn't seem to look away. My response was barely a whisper. “I…don't know. Maybe."
I expected him to let me go, to turn away, maybe laugh uncomfortably or make a joke. But he didn't. Instead, his thumb moved slightly, tracing a slow pattern against my back, drawing all my awareness to that spot.
The room was quiet for a long moment, only our breathing audible in the still night air. Our gazes were locked, and I watched as emotions flitted across his face, too fast for me to follow.
Don’t move, I thought, almost desperately. Don’t look away.
When Theo spoke again, his voice was rough. "Do you want me to stop?"
Slowly, I shook my head.
He didn't move. "Do you want me to keep going?"
I held his gaze. "Yes."
"River," he whispered, half plea, half command, and then his mouth was on mine once again. This kiss was slow, unhurried, and completely in control, just like Theo. Everything about him was the opposite of Luca. While Luca's kisses were fiery and possessive, intense and all-consuming, kissing Theo was like coming home.
His hand slid around my side, and then his other hand joined it, framing my waist and clasping me tight, and he was lifting me. My back met with the soft blankets of Theo's bed, and I clutched tight to his shoulders, dragging him down with me. His weight landed on top of me and I squirmed beneath him, trying to get closer. I gripped his shirt, tugging, and made a sound of frustration against his lips when I couldn't seem to touch as much of him as I wanted.
He broke the kiss, chuckling against my lips, then lifted himself up, letting me pull his shirt up and off as he knelt over me. God. I'd seen Theo's chest countless times, but how had I never seen him before? How had I never noticed how smooth his skin was? How the ridges of his collarbones cast a shadow in the dip of his throat that I suddenly ached to kiss.
I rose up beneath him, and fitted my lips to the spot, my tongue darting out to taste the hollow of his throat. A groan reverberated in his chest, and it made goosebumps rise all along my arms. His hands moved up my sides, and I lifted my arms, letting him draw my shirt over my head.
