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I shut down every thought except one. Him. For once in my adult life, I just feel.
Pushing up on my toes, I lean in and press my lips to his. And damn, it is so much better than I remember.
CHAPTER13
BRAYDON
For months, I fantasized about the possibility of this moment. Of my lips on hers again. My hands on her skin, her curves.
In less than a minute, the fantasy became a reality.
When I returned to Lake Lavender, I had no expectation of seeing her again. Though the town is small, the likelihood of bumping into her seemed slim. Thousands of people lived here, and with the start of warmer days, tourists trickled in from bigger cities and out of state. Traffic isn’t bumper to bumper, but plenty of cars line the streets and fill the lot at the bed-and-breakfast. Each day, I greet new faces as I walk through town, many of them with the same curious eyes as they take in the stores and scenery.
I’d returned to Lake Lavender with an agenda. Two weeks to visit the town, see the sights, meet the townsfolk, and write a story to entice readers.
Seems my agenda may change.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
My pulse thrums in my ears as my lips taste hers. Once, twice. My hands come to her cheeks, tip her head back and to the side. Softly, slowly, I kiss her. Relish in the suppleness of her lips. Revel in the weight of her frame as she presses her body against mine. Lose all sense of control as her lips part and the tip of her tongue traces my bottom lip.
My hold on her tightens. Fingers curling at the ends, digging into her hair and soft skin as I gasp.
Then her tongue strokes mine. Stokes the embers of the fire she lit inside me months ago. A fire I never let fully extinguish. A fire that, with each new taste, morphs into an inferno.
“We should…”Kiss. “Go somewhere.”Taste. “Or…”
She sucks my tongue and I melt—literally—and back her up against the car. A groan vibrates my chest as I bruise her with my fingertips. I deepen the kiss and savor every piece of her she lets me have.
Her boundless intensity and fierce desire. Her stubborn strength and endless ambition. Her willingness to take what she wants, even if it will shred us in the end.
Because there is no way this will end well.
She breaks the kiss and inches back. “Braydon, I—”
My lips drop to hers and kiss her chastely. “Whatever you want.” My thumb strokes her cheek and she leans into the subtle touch. “Your call.”
Much as I hate handing her all the power, I have to. Because this time next week, I will pack my bags and drive away from here. Away from her. And though going our separate ways will undoubtedly hurt us both, I won’t be the one living with the visual reminders when I look at landmarks or beds or parking lots. She will, and it is cruel of me to not take that into account.
Her fingers fumble with the cotton of my shirt. Tighten and loosen, only to repeat the motion again and again. She bites the corner of her bottom lip as her eyes dart between mine in search of answers or clues or anything to help her decide.
“I want to,” she says softly and I don’t miss the hint of reluctance in her tone.
“You want to, but…” I inch back and take a slow, deep breath.
Her eyes drift down the sidewalk as aVforms between her brows. Light laughter and conversation echo around us as people exit stores and restaurants. I don’t concern myself with any of them. Don’t shift my gaze from Alessandra’s face as my thumbs continue to stroke her cheeks. But I witness every ounce of unease to mar her expression. Every facet of uncertainty.
Which is why I refuse to decide what happens next. Were it left up to me, my decision would be instantaneous, irrational, and lust induced.
Plain and simple, I want her. More than I have wanted anyone. And that terrifies me the most.
Alessandra and I will never be more than this. Undiluted chemistry, insatiable hunger, and unwilling to commit. And it would serve me well to remember as much.
Midnight-rimmed cobalt-blue irises search my eyes. Silently asking where we go from here. What step we take next. If this is a good idea. If this—us caving—is smart.
The answer is no, this isn’t smart. But damn, I have never been this willing to be an idiot.
She shakes her head and straightens her spine. “But nothing.” Her fingers loosen their hold on my shirt. “Follow me?”
