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Sweet Kisses
Zhara
My heart is an erratic mess as I stand beside Benton, waiting for Xavier to reach us. Xavier seems oblivious to the scene, his eyes glued to his phone as he crosses the parking lot. This makes my uneasiness go up a notch. He’s walking straight into a dangerous mess and he’s not even aware of it.
But when Xavier’s gaze finds us, not an ounce of surprise flashes across his expression. I suddenly second guess my initial assumption and question if he either somehow knew Tank and Ralpho were here or that he’s just really good at concealing his shock.
When Benton catches my gaze, the corners of his lips quirk into a ghost smile and then he winks at me.
I realize three things right then and there. 1). Xavier knew Ralpho and Tank were here, maybe the entire time. And 2). The guys are pros at acting. And 3). I shouldn’t doubt them when the situation looks hopeless.
Then a fourth thing occurs to me. That I’m actually going to kiss both of these guys while Ralpho and Tank watch.
I shudder. Ew. Gross. Well, at least the last part.
Benton gives my hand a reassuring squeeze as Xavier stops beside him.
“Xavier, so glad you can join us.” Ralpho throws a smirk in Xavier’s direction. “It’s actually perfect timing. I was just about to go find your boy Jackson and have a little chat with him. But, since you’re here, you can spare him the talk. That is, if you pass the test.”
Xavier’s eyes momentarily drift toward Benton before landing back on Ralpho. “Oh yeah? A test, huh?” He doesn’t sound surprised. Just mildly curious.
I have to wonder if he knows exactly what’s going on, if Benton somehow informed him. But why would he show up if he knew he was going to have to kiss me? If he didn’t, would Ralpho really track down Jackson right this very moment and kill him? Yes. The answer has to be yes.
The realization of how dangerous these guys are sends a shiver coursing through my body. Not wanting Ralpho and Tank to notice my spastic behavior, I inch closer to Benton and he strokes his finger along the inside of my wrist.
“Yeah, a test.” Ralpho seems irritated by Xavier’s lack of worry. “You’re going to prove to me and Tank right now that the story Jackson fed to us about you all dating the same girl isn’t bullshit.” His lips twist into a snide grin. “Personally, I don’t think it’s going to work. I think the girl’s going to run off before it can happen.” His dark gaze zeroes in on me and he wets his lips with his tongue. “She looks like too good of a girl to be screwing around with multiple guys.”
“Sometimes it’s the good girls who are the naughty ones.” Tank speaks for the first time pretty much since they showed up. He lifts off his glasses to get a good look at me, revealing a faint scar underneath his left eye. “Isn’t that right, Zhara Baker?”
I gulp at his use of my last name and Benton’s hand clamps down on mine.
Tank grins. “Yeah, I did a little research on you. Thought it was a good idea since you were running around with a bunch of guys who know a lot about my boss.” His head angles to the side and his gaze bores into me. “I couldn’t find much about you, though. So, either you’re just a really good girl who never does anything, bad or someone wiped your records clean. But it doesn’t make sense. I mean, supposedly you’re dating all these guys but you haven’t ever gotten into trouble, you graduated with honors, and no one in our circle has ever heard of you.”
Well, at least no one recognizes my last name. That’s got to be a good sign that perhaps my mom wasn’t working for Axel, right? Either that or she used an alias.
Tank stares at me expectantly, and I get the impression this is one of those moments where I’m supposed to say something. I just wish I knew what was the correct thing to say.
Do something, Zhara! Just say something sassy and snarky that will put them in their place. Be the Zhara that was sexy dancing in front of Jett, that told him maybe if he was lucky, you’d show him some more. Put that brief bad girl training to use.
Yep, even in a panicking situation, apparently my initial instinct is to go with what I’ve been taught. I’ve been trying to break the habit, but considering I’m completely clueless about being a bad girl, I can only go with what I’ve learned.
Summoning a deep breath, I let my lips part, still uncertain what I’m going to say.
“You think just because I’m smart, haven’t been arrested, and some guys from your little drug circle haven’t heard about me, that means I can’t date multiple guys at once. Honestly, it sounds like something only a smart girl could handle without messing it up.” Oh my gosh, why the freakin’ heck did I just say that!
I want to slap my hand across my mouth and retract every word. But when I’d tried to take back the sassy remark I made to Jett, he told me not to lose character. So, instead of backing out, I push onward and turn to Benton. Then, without looking at his expression—because I’m sure he’s freaking out, which is only going to make me freak out—I seal my lips to his.
Everything about what I’ve said and done up until this point has been carried out with utter confidence, despite my internal panicking. But as Benton’s arm winds around my back and he deepens the kiss, my knees begin to wobble and my nerves slip through. Still, having kissed Benton before, I manage to keep my freaking out to a minimum. I worry, though, how I’m going to react when I have to kiss Xavier.
As more worry possesses me, I begin to kiss Benton quicker, almost in a frenzy. Benton is the perfect actor, going along with my crazy kissing, his tongue frantically tangling with mine. The longer we kiss, the more my legs tremble and all I can do is clutch onto him for dear life. Somewhere through the haziness fogging up my brain, I swear I hear Benton groan. Then his hands wander around my back and brush across my butt, which only makes my body shudder so badly I worry my knees are going to buckle. Before I collapse, he grips the back of my legs and picks me up. I tense, unsure what to do, but he helps me out and guides my legs around his waist.
The longer we kiss, the more I forget about my outside surroundings. I don’t know how I manage to forget though, with Tank and Ralpho watching us, but somehow I do. I even forget that when Benton’s lips leave mine, I have to seal my lips to another set of lips that belong to a guy who doesn’t like me. Yes, it seems pretty crazy to forget about all of that, yet somewhere between Benton picking me up and kissing me for so long I can barely breathe, my mind tunes out everything else.
But the instant Benton breaks the kiss, reality douses over me like a cold shower.
“Are you okay?” Benton whispers quietly enough for only me to hear, his lips hovering a sliver of an inch away from mine.
I nod my head once, unable to form coherent words.
“Good. Just hang on for a little longer, okay?” He kisses me once more, a gentle graze across my lips before pulling away.
Taking the hint, I untangle my legs from him and lower my feet to the ground. I only allow myself one deep breath before I turn and approach Xavier. He carries my gaze as I walk toward him. Or more like wobble toward him. And while I’m the one who started the situation—who kissed Benton—I suddenly feel like Xavier’s in control, as if a rope is wound around my wrists and he’s pulling me toward him. Step by step, I move closer to him until I’m finally standing right in front of him. Then I tip my chin up to meet his eyes, which is strange, since I’m above average height. Xavier has to be tall. When did he get so tall? Has he been this tall the entire time? Have I somehow become one of those completely oblivious people?
I mentally smack myself in the forehead. Seriously, I’m about to kiss Xavier and all I can think about is how tall he is and that I’ve become oblivious.
Get your head in the game, Zhara!
Blinking from my thoughts, I focus on Xavier and his lips. I need to kiss him now. But throwing myself at him isn’t as easy as it was with Benton. I know Benton better. Know he doesn’t entirely despise me.
As I stand there stupidly, my palms begin to sweat. I want to wipe them off on the sides
of my shorts, but fear Tank and Ralpho will notice.
Just kiss him, you idiot! Do it!
I start to lean forward, but freeze. I can’t do this! I just can’t!
Xavier gives me a look, as if he’s resisting an eye roll—like he expected me not to be able to follow through with this. That look is my weakness, the thing that sets a fire of fury off inside me.
He thinks I won’t do it. That I’m a good girl. That he was right about me.
Before I can back out, I stand on my tiptoes and smash my lips against his. And when I say smash, I mean smash, our teeth clanking together so forcefully I swear my brain vibrates inside my skull. Xavier groans, either from the intensity of the kiss or the fact that I just about knocked his teeth out. My guess is the latter.
I don’t pull away, though, gripping onto his shoulders and pressing my body against his. For the briefest second, he stands stiffly against me. I grow worried he isn’t going to kiss me back. But a pounding of a heartbeat later, he takes over. And I mean really takes over.
Xavier is an intense kisser—that’s the first thing I learn within the first second of our kiss. His tongue moves passionately against mine as he picks me up and backs us up toward the car, giving me hardly any time to get my legs wrapped around his waist. Still, I manage to before he presses me up against the side of the car. Then he deepens the kiss, his hands skimming across my waist, my sides, my shoulders before residing on the sides of my neck. He holds me gently, but firmly, which really makes no sense. Yet in my cloudy, overly kissed brain, it does.
Kissed. I’m getting kissed so much I can’t even remember what it was like not to be kissed.
My mind and heart are soaring as I rush to keep up with his movements. When a groan slips from his lips, the kiss goes from wildly intense to frantically crazy and any attempt at keeping up with him flies away to the sweltering sky. Xavier owns this kiss. He’s in control. And he’s kissing me so fiercely, I have to wonder when the last time he kissed someone was. Has it been a long time? Is that why he seems so desperate. Who was the girl he kissed last? Does he miss her? Is that why he’s kissing me this way?
All questions evacuate my mind, as Xavier shudders uncontrollably. I don’t know why I do what I do next. Perhaps I possess some sort of kissing intuition. But whatever the reason, I find myself looping my arms around him and tracing a path down his spine in a soothing gesture. Then I slow down the kisses, moving my lips slower in an attempt to calm him down.
The attempt seems to work as Xavier’s muscles unwind and his grip on me loosens. He kisses me deliberately, as if savoring every touch of our tongue, lips, and body.
