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“I won’t.” My own voice is barely audible.
“You might.” He moves his hand so his fingers touch my chin. I feel the soft, warm pressure of his thumb as he moves it so lightly along my bottom lip. “Your lips… No lipstick this morning.”
“I skipped—” Oh! He moves me so my back is to the counter.
His body, that tall, strong pillar, shelters me.
What was I saying?
Something about lipstick, maybe…
“I love seeing you this early in the day, your morning look,” he whispers.
He… he loves me…?
No, that wasn’t the whole thing. There were other words in there.
He loves seeing me in the morning.
That’s what he said.
The feel of his breath on my lips sends tingles down my spine. “And I loved your red lips last night, too,” he adds.
My body is limp with how it feels to be pinned here by him.
“It was my cherry red—” I try, “my matte Maybelline?—”
His lips fuse to mine, cutting off my words. Our kiss is immediately deep, immediately passionate. It feels as if all the hours we managed to spend apart since our last kiss made us both hungrier.
We were starved—for this.
All the talking we’ve done… right now, it feels like all of that was our way of side-stepping this.
But somehow, this kiss was underneath every single conversation.
This was what we both wanted.
The kiss deepens.
He tastes so good, like sugar and coffee.
I don’t know how long it lasts. The kitchen fades away, then the island, then the whole world.
Buzzy Digital Marketing doesn't even exist.
There is no future promotion, no company policy to read, and then read again while taking notes on my phone.
There’s only Jack’s mouth on mine. His hand, working up through my hair. His body, so strong and delicious, pressing into mine.
When we part, I know that can’t be our last kiss. We crossed the boundary this time, and there are no innocent ‘mix-ups’ to blame.
I know who he is. He knows who I am.
He’s as breathless as I am. “Ocean,” he mutters.
“Hm?” Air. I need air, and then I need to do that again.
“I want to swim with you in the ocean. Like, today. This morning.”
