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Reece’s chest rumbles with a noise deeper than his eyes. “I don’t care.”
Time freezes as we hold each other’s gazes, the silver flurries falling around us seeming to slow as well until it feels like we’re in a snow globe, just the two of us in our own cocooned world of suspended sparkly serenity. If there was one moment in my life I could pinpoint as wanting to stay in, it’d be this—standing so peacefully over the man who caused me nothing but angst.
“You have terrible taste,” I whisper to Reece, reluctant to completely break the silence just yet.
“You like my apartment,” he whispers back with a playful scowl.
“I meant in women.”
Those lips of his spread, showcasing his top row of straight white teeth. A solitary snowflake lands on his plump bottom lip, melting almost instantly, and I lick mine wishing it was his.
My eyes latch on to his, the lust I feel building in me mirrored there. Reece grabs two large handfuls of his jacket and pulls me to him. He keeps our fronts close without actually touching.
But I don’t want him to hold back. I’m so tired of always holding back.
“Would you kiss me right now if I asked you to?”
“Kiss you? Lex, I’d fuck you right here, right now, out in the open, on top of your dad’s grave.”
That’s not what I want. Fucking is…fucking. It’s a basic need that doesn’t require much effort or thought to accomplish. Men can fuck an empty flashlight. A couple short pumps later, they’re fulfilled. Normally it’s over as quick as it started.
Kissing is intimate. It’s personal. It takes finesse and restraint, and usually, emotion. If done right, it can last all night.
Fucking is fast food, but kissing is fine dining, and my diet’s been strictly fast food for so long. Maybe always, because nobody’s ever kissed me like Reece.
“If I asked you toonlykiss me, would you?”
“I’d do anything you asked me to, Snow.”
“Except leave.”
I don’t pose it as a question yet he validates it anyway by nodding, and saying, “Except leave.”
This isn’t what was supposed to happen tonight. Not at all. Reece was supposed to be fleeing, now if possible, from Fox Hollow, from this life, from me. Instead, he’s digging his heels in, refusing to escape what we both know is a dead end.
And I’m…dying to kiss him.
“You’re exhausting,” I remind him for at least the fiftieth time since our paths have crossed.
“Only to you.”
“Your sisters might say otherwise.”
At the mention of his sisters, the most magnetizing little half-grin transforms Reece’s face.
I deny myself so much, so fucking much, and all it’s gotten me is miserable and devoid. I want to be full for once.
Again. I want to be full again. The only time in my life I’ve felt full was outside The Pen, when I let myself indulge.
“Kiss me,” leaves my lips so quiet, I’m not even sure Reece hears it.
But then he says, “Ask me,” just as softly, confirming he did.
Why does he insist on making everythingsodifficult?
I twist away but his grip on my arms tightens, hauling me right back, then his lips clash with mine, wedging between the two as his tongue slips in. He licks and licks and licks, the motion like waves lapping at the shoreline until I bite his tongue, keeping him in place so I can suck on it. His lips close over mine, then we’re kissing again, each of us lapping up the other.
Ten shards of ice nip at my cheeks and jaw as Reece gingerly grazes my face with his fingertips, tilting my head back for a better angle. I thread my wrists inside his, my own freezing digits clasping the sides of his throat. The vibrations from his moan tickle their tips, and I clutch harder until I’m digging my nails into his skin. His pulse races under my touch, fulfilling me in a way actual food never has.
