Page 33 of Long Story Short

“Inspire me how?” I try to ignore how breathy my question comes out. I can’t help it. He’s just so close, and he’s staring at me so intensely that it’s hard to get any kind of words out.

Tyson lifts his hand. It hovers between us for a moment as we both stare at it. After a few heated moments, he focuses on me once again. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. I know he’s silently asking if he can touch me or not.

I nod, and he wastes no time placing his hand against my cheek.

“Like this,” he rasps. His fingertips press into my skin as his gaze rakes over my face.

My eyelids flutter shut as his thumb traces over my cheekbone. Heat spreads throughout my entire body just because of this slight touch.

“I don’t understand,” I manage to get out, despite the way my pulse spikes and my head feels dizzy from how much I want the man who’s barely touching me.

Tyson gives me a cocky smirk as he moves his hand from my cheek to my neck. He leans closer, using his other hand to slide my hair to the side, exposing more of my neck to him. With no hair in the way, his fingertips dance against my bare skin.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he says.

I tilt my head back, trying to get a better look at him to understand what’s going on. “You want to know what I’m feeling?”

He nods as his thumb dances over my collarbone. “Yes. Tell me.”

I close my eyes, wondering how we went from talking about how he was going to help me get inspired to him wanting to know what I’m feeling. “Right now, I’m wondering how this is going to help me write,” I confess, my words barely above a whisper as he distracts me with the way his fingertips dance across my skin in a way that makes my entire body light up with desire.

He laughs, the sound of it deep and throaty. “Do you feel like we have a connection?”

I stare into his blue eyes, wondering where he’s going with this. Of course we have a connection. If we didn’t, my entire body wouldn’t feel like it’s on fire just by the soft caress of his fingertips.

“Yes,” I whisper, my eyelids fluttering shut for a moment when he slides the fabric of my shirt down my shoulder.

“Good. Now, think about how I’m making you feel right now,” he continues, his voice thick. He traces the tender spot where my neck meets my shoulders, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When I open my eyes, I find him even closer. His lips can’t be more than an inch or two away from mine.

He wants me to think about how I feel right now, but I can’t. The only thing I can think about is how desperately I want him to kiss me.

“Are you thinking about how you’re feeling? Focus on the connection between us. You’ll need to remember those things.”

I stare at his lips, my tongue peeking out to wet mine absentmindedly. “Why?” I whisper, unable to talk any louder because of how swept up I am in him and this moment between us.

His hand travels up the back of my neck before he tangles his fingers in my hair and cradles the back of my head. “Because I’m inspiring you. Remember how you feel right now, and write that into your book.”

Tyson fixes his grip on my hair, holding the strands even tighter than he was before. It doesn’t hurt, but there is pressure as he keeps my focus solely on him.

I swallow, not knowing what to even say back to him. I had no idea what he meant when he announced he was going to help me get inspired, but I didn’t think it’d be this. I thought he’d offer to go for a walk and discuss plot points, not send my pulse into overdrive as he points out the connection between us and how I can use it to fuel my writing as well.

“How do you feel about their first kiss?” he asks. He doesn’t bother to hide the way his gaze moves from my eyes to my lips. He stares hungrily at my mouth like there’s nothing he needs more than to press his mouth against mine.

I feel the same. All I want is for him to lean in and kiss me. I’ve never wanted to be kissed so much in my life, but he doesn’t move. All he does is keep a tight grip on my hair as he continues to devour my mouth with his gaze alone.

“Josie,” he prompts, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “Tell me how you feel about your characters’ first kiss.”

My mouth feels so dry I have to swallow in an attempt to bring moisture back. Right now, I don’t want to think about my characters; I want to think about him ending this tease and finally fully leaning in and kissing me. Butterflies take flight in my stomach in anticipation.

Just when I think he might close the distance between us, he swipes his finger along my cheekbone at the same moment he tilts my head up to look even deeper into his eyes. “If this is becoming too much of a distraction, I can stop.”

I shake my head before I can even think twice about it. I’ve spent days telling myself that Tyson is only a distraction from my work, and the moment he offers the same idea, I want to assure him he’s the furthest thing from that. Or at least tell him that he’s a distraction I don’t mind.

“Then let me help you. Think about your character’s first kiss. Does her pulse race with the anticipation of a kiss the way yours does right now?”

His blue eyes scan my face as he watches me carefully. If it were anyone else, I might want to shy away from the intense way he stares at me. But with him, I meet his gaze, allowing him to see his effect on me.