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“Shhh,” he scolds. “I need to focus.”
I playfully roll my eyes.
“But I somehow managed to nail the landing.” His hand brushes against my cheek, then cups it gently, and tingles rush down my neck. My breathing stills.
And I know then I’m in danger. Warning sirens blare inside my head.
The wall…stay grounded….
I try to play it off with a weak smile and say, “And then?”
“And then I close in like this,” he says, shortening the distance between us, and I wish I could see the cerulean rings behind his shades. See what he’s looking at. See if I can decipher what he’s thinking.
The warning sirens grow louder, and I pull back a little. “No kissing,” I warn, but my voice lacks conviction.
His lips twitch again, and his voice is low and soft. “I never kiss a girl without their permission, ma’am.”
Yeah, right. But…
He’s right. Or, at least, he may not be completely full of shit. That night at the bar, I kissed him first.
“And I said…” His words trail. A pause. His touch seemingly melts into my skin and he tilts my face up into the slanting afternoon light. “I…I think I’d like to change my favorite color to something else.”
He takes off his shades with his other hand, and his blue eyes bore into mine. Searching. All the humor in them from before is gone.
Wall…ground….
As I feel my resolve wavering, I know I’m crossing over from dangerous territory and into completely and utterly screwed.
“Brown…” he says. “Light brown. Almost almond. With flecks of honey around the irises in the daylight.”
“You said that to her? But it was nighttime,” I whisper, yet I know what he means.
His eyes flick down to my lips. “I’m saying it to you.”
It takes my thoughts a moment to reach my mouth. “I thought you said you wouldn’t kiss me?”
Yes, I’m totally screwed.
A brief smile flickers on his lips that doesn’t touch his eyes. “I meant what I said.”
And it’s then, in his gentle restraint, in his passionate reverence as he holds my cheek and ensnares me, and the rest of our memories of that night come tumbling in at once, I come completely undone. I watch helplessly as my walls crumble, and there’s nothing I can do. Nothing at all…
I close the gap between us.
My lips fuse with his, warm and encouraging, and I sigh into it—into the feel of him, but I don’t stop there. I reach up with my good hand and snake my fingers through his hair above his nape.
Jake’s hand, once on my cheek, slides down to the bare round of my shoulder, then moves to the sensitive space between my shoulder blades and presses me into him.
Our kiss deepens.
And I become wholly, and irrevocably, lost in him.
I raise up on my knees, and he shifts to swing his legs around so I can straddle him. As I climb on top I lose balance on this uneven surface. Catch myself with my hurt hand.
When it collides with the rock, my fingers splaying across the gritty surface, a white-hot pain shoots up my forearm.
I gasp.
