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“I… I want you.”
4
TAYLOR
Who just spoke?
It couldn’t have been me. I, Taylor Theron, would never get in a stranger’s car, blab my entire sob story without taking a single break to inhale, and then beg him to kiss me.
Except that there’s a weight in my chest the size of Chicago, and a need sitting on top of it that’s twice as big. He told me to stop thinking about everyone else. He told me to tell him what I wanted.
And apparently, what I want is a kiss.
No, not just a kiss. A kiss fromthisman. A man who’s so unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. A man who my father would take one look at and lock me up in the tallest tower he could find.
That’s me. A golden-haired Rapunzel with a sailor’s mouth and a fear of heights.
His eyes bore into mine, holding me there like a captive. The waiting makes it feel like he’s deliberating. To kiss the girl or not to kiss the girl? I can practically see the wheels in his head turning.She seems like a basket case, but maybe her kissing isn’t as sloppy as her crying.
“That’s a dangerous request.”
“You asked me what I wanted.”
“I thought you had a small modicum of self-preservation.”
Is this rejection? Or is he just trying to make sure I’m not so vulnerable that he’d be taking advantage?
I strike that thought almost immediately. He really doesn’t seem like the type of guy who’d have any moral qualms about taking advantage of anyone.
“I’m tired of being careful all the time,” I explain. “It’s exhausting.”
He smiles cryptically. “I’m warning you right now. If I kiss you, I doubt it’ll stop there.”
A shiver ripples down my spine. But it’s not just nerves; it’s excitement. Honestly, my dad is to blame. He’s tried so hard to keep me safe that it’s made me want to run right into danger.
And this man…he’s danger personified.
“You asked me what I wanted,” I say, sucking in a breath. “And I told you. If you don’t want to kiss me, then just say that instead of—”
I gasp when his lips come down on mine. He tastes like whiskey and smoke, the kinds of heat that singe your nerves and remind you that you’re alive.
There’s no awkwardness, no flailing, no sense of uncertainty.
He knows exactly what he’s doing.
His tongue traces over my bottom lip and I part for him. I’ve never been more eager to deepen a kiss in my life. I’ve never been more lost in one, either.
I can’t feel my legs or hands. I’m too focused on our fused lips, our entangled tongues. His touch is a lightning bolt cracking through the darkness of my life.
When he pulls his lips from mine, I draw in a hungry breath of air. I’m surprised to see that it’s still thundering and pouring outside. Somehow, my world had gone quiet in the sparse few seconds of that kiss.
Something occurs to me. “W-wait…” I gasp.
He pulls back just far enough that I can see his lips glistening. “Scared,tigrionok?”
“I just realized that we don’t even know each other’s names.”
He arches one dark, thick eyebrow. “I’m—”
