Instigation

“May I kiss you? The way a woman deserves to be kissed? The way you deserve to be kissed?” he asks. “The way I’m assuming he hasn’t kissed you in far too long?”

 

 

He asked. Instead of just taking what could so obviously be his, he asked for permission. And even though warning bells ring in my head, telling me that this is too soon, too strange, and I know I shouldn’t give in, I nod my head, unable to voice my accord. I’m afraid that, if I speak, the spell between us will break and, instead of that beautiful woman he sees, I’ll turn back into a sniffling doormat. It’s inevitable, but I’m not ready for that yet. For just this moment, I want to savor someone’s apparent desire for me. I want to feel again.

 

One hand comes up to stroke my cheek. “Say it out loud,” he requests, his voice scratchy and raw. “I won’t do this unless you agree. I’ll never push you, Brie. I promise.”

 

Use your words, Gabriella.

 

Adrian’s menacing tone clouds my mind, and I shake my head to get rid of him. Matthews’s eyes narrow as if he thinks I’ve changed my mind. Disappointment floods his face, and instead of just doing what he wants, he closes his piercing, blue eyes for a split second, takes a deep breath, and then looks down at me with a small smile. Just as he’s about to pull away, I scramble to respond.

 

“Yes. Please kiss me,” I tell him, breathless and wanting, sounding as desperate as I feel, hoping like hell that his kiss will erase Adrian’s earlier transgression. That, somehow, because he asked and didn’t just take, allowing me to agree on my terms, it’ll replace the memory of this morning. Somehow, this could be the first step to becoming myself again.

 

My hands grip the counter as he moves in closer to me. He uses one finger to wipe the remaining tears before trailing it down my cheek and gently pushing my chin up as he leans in. His scent is woodsy and clean, a distinct difference from Adrian’s expensive cologne, and I can’t believe I’m doing this. That I’m allowing another man to touch me. That I’m quivering with the anticipation of it.

 

A bundle of nerves flutters deep inside my belly at his close proximity, but the moment our lips touch, it all melts away. His lips graze mine once, then twice—soft and slow, a mere whisper of a kiss, a beautiful preamble that has goose bumps rising on the surface of my skin. He presses harder, deepening our contact ever so slightly, but not by much. It’s as if he’s cherishing the moment, this kiss—as if he’s cherishing me. And more than anything, I want him to. Shockingly, I realize I want him. The fact that I don’t even know him barely registers, because right now, at this moment, he’s telling me all I need to know.

 

And I want more.

 

Everything about this man is the complete opposite of what I’m used to, and I crave the disparity. The contrast between him and Adrian is palpable, and suddenly, I long to know all of their differences. My lips part willingly, seeking so much more from him than just a light peck. With only a moment’s hesitation, he takes the invitation as his warm tongue sweeps inside my mouth, coaxing mine to meet his. With sensual, deliberate caresses, this mystery man is awakening a sleeping desire from somewhere deep within me, and I cannot get enough. My hands rise from the counter—I want to touch him, pull him closer, yet I’m afraid to break the spell.

 

His kiss is a wild contradiction of tenderness and intensity as his hand moves from the small of my back and travels up the curve of my spine. Goose bumps follow his touch, and I wish that it were his lips on my skin. A soft moan escapes my lips as the sensation of his kiss produces a fire between my legs that’s been dormant for months. He doesn’t kiss me like he owns me. He kisses me as if he cherishes me, not as if I’m some stranger he just encountered. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I never want it to end. It’s as if he feels the same, kissing me as if he has all the time in the world, his lips and tongue exploring my own, consuming me. That is until I’m pushing up against him, all too aware of his arousal pressing against my core and apparently bringing him to his senses.

 

A whimper slips from my throat as he pulls away. “Who are you?” I whisper, observing the dazed expression on his face, which undoubtedly matches my own.

 

I’m not even sure I care about the answer to that question at this point. I want him to kiss me again, and I want to savor the sensation of my swollen lips, which are raw due to his prickly stubble. He doesn’t respond as his gaze penetrates mine almost like he’s trying to figure out the same thing about me.

 

His scrutiny sets my nerves on fire, and I blush, bowing my head slightly as the realization of what I’ve just done washes over me. Yet, as embarrassed as I should feel, the emotion doesn’t come. A small smile plays at my lips as I chalk this up to one tiny victory in the upcoming battle for my independence. Who knew I’d find the most unlikely ally right in Adrian’s kitchen?

 

“There she is,” he declares.

 

“Who?” I ask, blinking up at him.

 

“Brie,” he answers with a knowing smile. “To him, you’re just Gabriella, his to order around and be at his beck and call. But the truth is you’re so much more, if only you’d let yourself be. It only took a moment for me to see the girl hiding inside, the strong woman begging to be released. He may not care, but I do. I see you, Brie. You just need to see you, too. To remember who you are.”

 

The accuracy of his assessment is astounding and hits way too close to home. It’s the reminder I need that, even though I may be attracted to him, we’re still complete strangers. One kiss—no matter how breathtaking it was—won’t change that.

 

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