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My gaze finally shifts back to his eyes. To the amusement still there. To the emotions shining in them that leave me breathless. “I told them we haven’t kissed. And asked them why they thought I would have kissed you.”
“What did they say?”
“That you’re one of the good guys, and I can’t do wrong by choosing you.”
The corner of his mouth kicks up, but he doesn’t widen the space between us. “I’m not so sure the enemy I once fought would agree.”
“Are you saying you’re not one of the good guys?” The words ride on a teasing, flirty lilt.
“Guess that depends on your definition. But I do try my best to be one.”
I lean back against the counter, needing something to keep me steady. All this talk about kissing is making my legs wobbly. “From what I’ve seen so far, I’d have to agree that you’ve succeeded on that count.”
Troy moves a step closer. “But that’s not enough for you to kiss me.”
I can’t tell if he’s asking a question or stating an opinion, so I accept it as the latter. “I’m not into kissing guys who don’t really want to kiss me.”
“Who says I don’t wanna kiss you?” His voice is rough and husky. If it drops any lower, it’ll be dusting the floor.
A tremor shimmers through my body, and I can barely breathe. “Why would you want to?”
“Christ, Jess. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first saw you. But I don’t want to kiss you before you’re ready.”
“You did? You don’t?” My voice goes all breathy and high.
He releases a small laugh, and his mouth twitches into a smile. “You realize we’re talking about us kissing, and you don’t look like you’re about to have a panic attack?” He narrows the electrically charged distance between our lips. But he also gives me enough room to move away if I need to.
“Do you want me to kiss you, Jess?” His warm breath fans across my kiss-starved lips. After everything I’ve been through, I shouldn’t want to kiss him. But I do.
I nod, my words failing me.
“Are you sure?”
This time when I answer, it’s not with words or a nod. I press my mouth against his. It’s nothing more than a tentative, teasing kiss, over before it barely starts.
I pull away ever so slightly, my pulse thrumming in my ears, my lips aching for more.
And for the first time in God knows how long…I feel alive.
Troy hasn’t moved even a fraction of an inch since I took the lead and kissed him. My gaze locks with his, and there’s no denying my kiss affected him. His eyes are dark with lust and pleasure and need.
I nod at the unspoken question in them, the movement barely perceptible.
Troy lowers his head, and our mouths reunite.
This kiss isn’t tentative like the last one, nor is it as brief. It’s gentle and commanding. Teasing and guiding. Without thinking about what I’m doing, I part my lips and let Troy in.
His tongue brushes mine, and my knees almost give out from under me. I grasp my wrists behind his neck and let my body tell me what to do. I haven’t had a lot of experience kissing men, but there’s no doubt Troy is the King of Kisses.
He wraps his arms around me, and I don’t feel vulnerable or nakedly raw. I feel safe, protected. I can’t remember the last time I felt that way.
My tongue dances with his. Too many…too many emotions stir inside me. Longing. Desire. Nervousness. Relief. Panic. They all entwine and tangle and knot.
And before I can stop the dam from crumpling, tears wet my cheeks.
43
TROY
