Page 60 of The Game
When she kisses me back with the same passion, it feels like paradise and heaven all at once.
I slip my tongue inside her mouth as she grabs a handful of my hair, tugging roughly.
One of my hands holds the back of her head, whilst the other travels down her body, feeling every curve and swell of her.
We keep kissing as if our lives depend on it, and I decide right then and there that nothing has ever felt this good, this right.
“Fuck, Sarah, you’re perfect,” I tell her between kisses.
She slides one of her hands down my stomach, feeling my muscles, and something tells me she might be an abs girl after all.
I grasp her ass, lifting her effortlessly while still keeping my lips on hers.
When her phone rings, I curse but continue kissing her.
“Ignore it,” I tell her, but she breaks apart from me, indicating that I should let her down.
Reluctantly, I do as she wants and let her down.
She doesn’t answer the phone, but her expression tells me that the passionate moment is over.
She shuts me out, her eyes cast downward.
I fucking hate it.
“Shit, I don’t know what came over me. That was a mistake. I have to go.” She rushes towards the elevator, leaving me confused, and dare I say, hurt.
She presses the button several times, clearly eager to get out of here as she fixes her top that’s a mess after I’ve had my hands roaming all over her.
I step closer to her, desperate for her to stay, to not run from this, from us.
“Sarah, hold on, we should talk about this,” I plead with her, but she shakes her head.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t,” she mumbles, and even though her eyes hold the same devastation as my own, I can tell she has a war going on inside that beautiful head of hers.
I want to reach out to her and show her we can do this.
I got her; she doesn’t have to run and hide.
But I also want to respect her needs, and if she thinks this was a mistake, I can’t force her to believe something different, even though it makes my heart heavy.
When the elevator doors close, I’m still standing in the same spot, wondering what the hell went wrong and if I imagined the kiss.
How can she run from something so good?
How could she call that kiss a mistake?
It was perfection, our mouths moving so sensuously together, our hands travelling across each other’s bodies like we’ve been made for each other.
I feel my chest tightening, wondering where I went wrong.
I’ve been patient with her; I thought she was ready. She kissed me back like she’s never been more prepared for anything in her life.
Then, it all came to a stop.
Did I misread this whole thing?
All week, hell weeks, I’ve felt like we’ve tiptoed around each other, waiting for this moment.
