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May, Present Day
Maple Ridge
The last thingI expected when I showed up at Jess’s house was for her to kiss me. I’ve longed to kiss her for the past two months, but given her trauma, I wasn’t expecting it to happen anytime soon.
Or possibly ever.
A salty wetness touches my lips. I pull away and take in Jess’s tear-stained face.
Before today, I’d never kissed a woman who then started crying. If it were anyone but Jess, I wouldn’t know what to make of it. But knowing she’s been hurt in the past ignites something dangerous inside of me.
I pull on a mask, hiding the fire of emotions from my face, and wipe my thumbs over her cheeks. “I’m sorry. We should’ve waited until you’re in a better place.”
She shakes her head, tears still flowing. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…it’s just you’ve made me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. A very long time.”
I wince, guilt twisting in my gut. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She shakes her head again. “You didn’t, Troy. The kiss was perfect.” She smiles, eyes glittery with tears. “But don’t let that go to your head.” She laughs, the soft rumble twirling through my chest, hugging my heart.
I grin, the feel and taste of her lips permanently branded on mine. “I’ll try not to.” My grin slips away. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. It was just…it was just a lot to process. I guess I never expected anyone to want to kiss me. Not after…well, not after…” She touches the scar by her mouth and traces along the puckered skin. Whoever sewed up the laceration did a shitty job of it.
I gently pry her fingers from the scar and press my lips lightly on it. “Why wouldn’t anyone want to kiss you? You’re strong and beautiful and incredibly stubborn.”
“Someone wants to kiss me because I’m incredibly stubborn?” Her mouth twitches, a promise of a smile that doesn’t quite materialize.
“Yes. You’re stubborn because you won’t let me help you as much as I want. You’re stubborn because you ride your bike everywhere when I could give you a lift.” I move my mouth closer to hers. “And does that make me want to kiss you more? Absolutely.”
Before she can contradict me, my mouth meets hers again.
This time I don’t stop kissing her. Our lips joined, I hook my hands behind her thighs and lift her onto the kitchen counter.
She spreads her knees, letting me get closer. Letting her feel how turned on I am when I’m with her. My hard length presses against her core, and she gasps.
She doesn’t stop kissing me. Her hands shift from my shoulders and thread through my hair. Her touch does nothing to ease how much I want her. It stokes the fire, adds more kindle to the flames.
I rest my forehead on hers and fight to regain control of my body. I don’t want to rush this and risk ruining the trust I’ve been slowly building over the past two months. I kiss her on her forehead. “I hope that’s not the last time you and I kiss.”
Her eyes are slightly dazed, but not in the same way as they are when she’s experiencing a flashback. This is more of a satisfied dazed, and I grin.
“I hope so too,” she says. “It’s on my list of things to relax me.”
What the actual fuck?“Kissing men is on your list?”
“Not kissing men specifically. Just kissing. I was thinking of you when I wrote it.” A flush spreads across her cheeks, and she lifts her shoulders in a small shrug. “So? Are you ready to get back to work? This kitchen and house won’t renovate themselves.”
“I guess not.” I laugh smugly, relieved at her reply, and move away from her. “You sure you don’t want to keep kissing?”
That beautiful mouth of hers curves into a wide smile. “Nope, I’m not sure at all. But kissing you won’t get me the kitchen I’m looking forward to.”
I don’t know about that. I’m more than happy to keep kissing her and give her that dream kitchen.
She returns to setting up the shelves in the kitchen cabinets. And I tackle what’s left of the ancient wallpaper clinging to the living room wall.
“I got some good news today about one of the musical acts the festival entertainment committee contacted last week…” I leave the end of the sentence hanging, building suspense. Fuck, I couldn’t believe it when I got the call.
“What? Who?” The pitch of Jess’s voice raises to match my level of excitement. “Please don’t make me guess.”
