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Unless I admitted that I’d never forgotten her, I couldn’t kiss her. And I had to kiss her. I cupped her cheek with my palm and stared into her ocean eyes.
“I thought I’d never see you again.”
Her eyes scrunched with confusion. “It was only a few minutes…”
I shook my head and pressed my lips to her ear, loving the shudder that shot through her body. She was just as responsive to me today as she had been three years ago, and my cock loved it. “It’s been far longer than that, Emerson.” I brought my lips to hers and parted them with my tongue. I couldn’t wait patiently until she opened to me; I had to possess her immediately. I brought my other hand to her face and held her there, reminding myself not to push too hard when what I really wanted to do was devour her.
“Wait,” Emerson said, pulling back. “You remember me?”
“How could I forget you?” I saw the question in her eyes, and as much as I wished she didn’t have to ask, I knew she did, or I could be a man and tell her. “I recognized you this morning…in the lobby.”
“But…why did you act like you didn’t?”
“Because of what you do, and what I do too.”
She took a step back and folded her arms. “I don’t know what you do. In fact, until today, I didn’t even know your last name.”
“Nor I, yours.” I took the same step forward that she’d taken back and unfolded her arms, putting one hand and then her other on my shoulders. “I woke up and you were gone.” I leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “My disappointment was profound.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that?”
Other than keeping up the charade that I didn’t remember her, there was nothing I’d done that warranted her distrust. “Why would you doubt it?”
“Because you’re…”
I smiled and captured her mouth a second time. Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed her again, but I was powerless not to.
I’d kissed other women in the last three years, but never anyone like her. I remembered more than her scent. The look on her face when our bodies first came together, the wonder of her, stretched out naked before me…I remembered it all, especially how her lips felt when they touched mine. For three years, I’d looked for another kiss that felt like hers, and until today, I thought I’d never find one.
“Wait,” she said, pushing away from me.
I knew exactly what she was about to say, and wished I could stop her. Instead, I said it for her. “Niven.”
“Niven? Oh, you mean Tommy.”
Right.Tommy.They even had pet names for each other. As difficult as it was, I released her. More difficult, though, was stopping myself from asking about their relationship.
“That wasn’t what I was going to say.” She tapped her mouth with her fingertip.
“What were you going to say?”
She cocked her head and backed up. “Now I can’t remember.”
I reached out for one more touch, but she was too far away. “I’m not sorry.”
She spun on her heel. “What did you say?”
I looked away, ashamed, but at the same time, I would kiss her again—more—if she’d let me. “I don’t regret kissing you, Emerson. But if you and Niven are in a relationship. I’ll respect that.”
“Relationship?”
“Seeing each other. Whatever you want to call it.”
“I don’t understand.”
I studied her. Was I wrong somehow?
I felt as confused as she seemed to be. However, if she felt no particular loyalty to a man I knew would make the most of any opportunity another woman presented to him, then why was I worried about it?
