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But she remained silent and appeared to not hear my question at all.
As we drove away, I kept glancing at the stoic young woman deep in thought next to me. Just when I thought it would be a quiet ride back, Kaya blurted out, “When are we going to talk about the kiss?”
Kaya
“Fuck me.” Saint sputtered out as he slammed the brakes hard enough to make me jolt forward in my seat. “Kaya?”
Yes. Explain Kaya. This should be great.
"After all the things Lydia brought up tonight, you and I should probably have the kiss conversation if we are going to do this pretend marriage thing.”
“It was the grandbabies comment, wasn’t it? Why are mum’s always pushing for that?” he muttered.
“Listen I have no expectations. I know this isn’t real. Sorry I brought it up.”
Saint reached out and took my hand. Warm tingles raced along my arm like they always seemed to do when we touched. “I’m here to help you. Let’s get through that step first.” But he left his hand in mine all the way back to the penthouse.
When we were back just inside the penthouse door, files clutchedunder my arm, I barely touched his elbow to stop him. Looking at the floor for a beat I let my gaze go from my hand up to his eyes. "I want you to know that I am grateful for everything. You didn't need to do any of this for me. Thank you."
I figured that I should stop there before I said anything wild or crazy.
With an adorable shoulder shrug, he ran a hand over the scruff beginning to build on his face. "You don't have to thank me, Kaya. You were in trouble. What was a decent bloke supposed to do?"
"I know a lot of decent people who wouldn't have done anything. I haven’t gotten many people shot at in my lifetime."
He chuckled low. "You know what?I’d like to not repeat that."
"Not my fault. How was I supposed to know they had guns?" Sliding into the easeof humor that flowed between us, it always seemed easier than being sincere. I couldn’t fully break that wall with him. He sure seemed like he wanted to hide behind the laughter, too.
Staring up at Saint’s bright green eyes as he looked back at me with care, I wondered what I was supposed to do with all this emotion flowing through me. This connection we created when we were this close. An incessant buzzing formed deep inside me that hummed with anticipation. It terrified me. I wasn't surewhat I should do next. Part of me wanted to run into my room far away from him and that pull.
I ran away from my feelings a lot. It was easier and safer than dealing with the heartache that came with deeper feelings. But I didn't want to run this time, so I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around Saint, folder and all.
Completely awkward. Unquestionably not my best move to just reach out and grab Saint in a hug. But the well of emotion after going back to my foster home was too much. Having this protector of a man step up, walk inside, and see part of me no one else did was overwhelming. Then seeing Lydia’s response. The woman who had known me for years, looked after me, taken care of me, had felt that distance, one that I'd put there for her own safety. If I couldn’t let her understand how I felt for all these years, I could try to let Saint know how much this all meant to me.
I kept on hugging him. This probably wasn’t even a good idea, considering that I kissed him the other night after my nightmare and he had essentially run away. But the way his arms snapped around my body so fast and drew me in shocked me and I dropped the files.
You know this isn’t completely horrible for him.
His deep inhale told me that he was trying to breathe me in.I felt like he was trying to consume me, to meld our bodies together until I could feel him in my soul. The more we stood together in this embrace, the more I wanted to lean into it, to feel it. Letting myself relish the feeling of being held. It was like Gemma was always saying; I held myself too tight, too stiffly. I needed to let people in. How long had it been since I’d let someone just hold me like this?
Those thoughts started me spiraling. I tried to pull back, becoming uncomfortable with the level of emotion I was displaying.
Just let yourself be hugged and don't shrug it off before it gets good.
When Saint did pull back, it wasn't quick. He didn't step away from me. He pulled back just enough that there were mere inches between us, and I lifted my head. At five-three, I wasn't particularly tall. But he was tall. Six foot two? Six foot three? It was enough that I had to crank my neck just to meet his gaze.
"Kaya." His voice was a whisper and a question Ihad no idea how to answer. How was I supposed to respond?
But then he groaned, his hands tightening on my biceps before he dragged me to him again and slammed his lips over mine.
Holy shit.
Heat and ecstasy and adrenaline made for a heady cocktail in my blood. I must have swayed because he wrapped his arms tighter around me. The drug of his kisses shut down all brain function so all I could focus on were his lips and his tongue and the sparking electricity jumping all over my skin.
Suddenly I heard a low, keening sound. Was that me? Was I the one making that sound of desperation? With a grunt, he picked me up easily like I weighed nothing. One hand on my back and one on my arse, the motion bringing our lips closer together, easier to connect.God yes. More. I wrapped my legs around his waist in this moment of pure bliss.
He slid his hands into my hair, fisting my tight curls. I was in Saint’s arms and could quite possibly stay in them forever without a care about anything else.
