He holds me like no other. His kiss is balm for my soul.
The tip of his tongue slips between my lips, and I moan against his mouth, the sound lost between us. He tastes manly and minty, his hot breath burning me from the inside. The picture of those lips on my nipples appears before my eyes—those lips traveling down my abdomen, kissing me. My fingers are trembling as they brush the front of his shirt, the open palm of my hand settling on his lower ribcage. His warmth is seeping through the thin material, searing me.
I want to push my hand underneath his clothes to feel skin against skin. To taste him the way I want him to taste me. But I don’t do any of those things.
Because this one kiss is already my undoing.
His lips are doing unthinkable things to me, creating feelings I have never had before. They remind me of a summer breeze, soft and warm; of a winter tale that mesmerizes and entrances; of the wings of a thousand butterflies, light and soundless, as they flutter around.
I wish I could stop this one moment, capture it, because I know it won’t last.
Because a guy like him doesn’t stay in a woman’s life. He breezes through and leaves only havoc behind.
I press my lips against him, over and over again, letting his tongue meet mine in a slow dance. And then I can feel his hand traveling up my inner thigh.
A delicious jolt travels through my clitoris and moisture pools between my legs, readying me for what he has to offer. Only, I’m not sure if I’m ready.
I squeeze my legs shut, but the friction only manages to intensify the want inside me.
Too soon, Kellan pries his lips away from mine, his hand withdrawing from my body.
I open my eyes and find him staring at me. He’s just as breathless as I am. His eyes are dark, full of desire. His gaze is penetrating every layer of me, reaching my core. “I’m not a patient man, Ava. But I can wait if something’s worth waiting for.”
“Don’t do this.” My voice is shaking as I push him away and stand, disgusted at just how desperate this man makes me. I have to get away, but where could I possibly head without appearing like I’m running from him?
His fingers brush the back of my arm, and my breath catches in my throat.
“You sound upset. I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Coming from someone like him, his apology takes me by surprise. I want to tell him that there’s no need to apologize. That I enjoyed kissing him. But I can’t. I’ve been hurt so often that opening up is not an option. I brush my fingertips over my lips. They’re still tingling, reminding me of how good it felt to have his mouth against mine. They remind me that his presence does something to me. My resolve is crumbling. I fear he’ll pull me to him and I’ll give in, just because I miss the intimacy of having another body against mine, inside me.
It’s been too long.
The attraction I feel for him reminds me of that.
I can feel the shift inside my head.
It’s not like I haven’t hooked up with guys before.
It’s not like I want him to put a ring on that finger.
I’m available. He’s available. Except, is he? Who’s the blond woman in the picture on the fireplace? Why don’t I believe that she’s his sister?
Because he won’t elaborate.
Because the one man I loved in the past lied to me. Told me the same bullshit story.
“Ava?” Kellan’s voice is a deliciously hoarse rumble.
What’s the harm indeed?
I’m not a cheater—that’s the harm. I won’t do to others what others have done to me.
“I was in love with someone,” I whisper at last.
The words are out before I can stop them.
My reply has his instant attention. His shoulders tense; his whole body does.
“He cheated,” I continue as I glance up at him. “He was my first love. My first in everything. I gave him my whole heart, and he broke it.” I take in Kellan’s face, expecting nonchalance, but there’s nothing nonchalant about his expression. “Now you know why I reject you. It’s because I won’t go through something like that again,” I say. “I’m sorry. It’s not personal. It’s not you. It’s me. I’m so sick of guys who play with your emotions. I won’t ever get hurt again.”
“I had no idea.”
I shrug and turn my back to him. “It’s okay.”
“Do you want me to beat him up? I’m good at it.”
His question takes me by surprise. “You would do that?”
“Give me his address and I’ll get it done.” He smirks. “Actually, I don’t even need his address. His name will do.”
I let out a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
He returns my smile. “You might want to say it one more time and see what happens.”
I sigh and touch his hand, squeezing it gently. It feels so good, rough, as if life has shaped him, too. “No, thank you. But I do appreciate the offer.”