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That’s when I kiss her forreal.
My lips come down on hers. The scent of her mingles with her taste in a cocktail far more satisfying than anything Jake’s bartenders couldconjure.
Her mouth is warm under mine, a sweet tattoo I’m going to remember long after I walk out of here. The feel of her goes to my head in a way that’s far more dangerous than thewhisky.
I press against her lips and she opens instantly, our tongues tangling as she grips my biceps through thetux.
My impatient hands find her hair. I’m competing with pins and hairspray, but I don’tcare.
Emboldened by the adrenaline coursing through me, I slide a hand down her back, settling just above the curve of herass.
She doesn’t pullaway.
No. She pressescloser.
Even though she can’t feel me through the fabric, I sure as hell feel her. I memorize the shape of her body, the slope, until I could drawit.
This is a badidea.
The worst I’ve had in awhile.
But fuckit.
Instead of cutting my losses, I drown myself in it, doing everything I wanted to that first night. Teasing her. Tasting her. Angling her face tomine.
And she responds as if I set her on fire. As if every word, every taunt, every look up until now wasforeplay.
It’s beautiful and a little dirty. An outlier you weren’t looking for, that you know won’t be erased if you run the experiment again and again because it’s there for a reason. It’s trying to tell yousomething.
I don’t know how long we kiss, but the music changes and I pull back, reluctant. My breath rasps in myears.
Rena’s flushed, her grip taking a moment to relax on my arms. I follow her gaze to the half dozen people looking our way andwhispering.
Red lips curve as she turns back to me. Her fingers are still digging into my arms through the jacket, and I don’t care if she ever letsgo.
“I messed up your hair.” I tug on one of the strands my careless fingers yankedloose.
“I messed up yourmouth.”
She reaches behind the table for her bag and passes me a mirror. Sure enough, there’s red lipstick smudged around mymouth.
Rena holds out a tissue, but I wave her off. My chest swells as her hands find my lapels and straighten them. “This is veryGatsby.”
“Gatsby was an eccentric wannabe,” Icounter.
“Yeah, but boy, he made it lookgood.”
I can’t fight the grin that spreads across my face. I know it’s a prank, butfuckif I don’t like thisgirl.
This was not theplan.
And it’s damnedinconvenient.
I shove my hands in my pockets. “You headinghome?”
Rena shakes her head. “Kendall said she might come bylater.”
I round the table, but before I can leave, she stops me. “Did I match withyou?”
