Page 21 of Fierce Storm
“I forgot until just now.”You distracted me with your half-finished story.
“Do you have whiskey too?”
“I do. Do you drink it?”
“Not usually. I was just curious. I’m filing that away for the things I know about Salvatore D’Angelo.”
“Wow, okay. Is the file big?”
“It’s growing.” She smiles to herself as she heads over to the cabinet, grabbing the whiskey glasses before pouring us both a glass of wine.
“To Zane being free of his heartache,” she says, raising her glass in the air.
“To Zane.” I clink my glass to hers and take a sip of the wine, scrunching my face when I taste it.
“What’s wrong?” Keeley laughs before she’s able to take a sip of her own. “Too posh to drink wine out of a whiskey glass? At least it wasn’t the paper cup.”
“Too posh?” I scoff. “I’ll have you know I can rough it like the best of them.”
“Best of who?”
“The people who rough it. I don’t know. Just taste the wine. You’ll see why I pulled a face.”
“Oh no.” Keeley gasps as her hand flies to her mouth, stifling a grin. “Is it bad?”
“Not bad exactly. But something’s not right.”
She takes a sip and her eyes immediately widen, her expression much like my own. “I think I’m too posh to drink wine out of a whiskey glass. You’re right. It’s nice but there’s definitely something going on.”
“It’s the glass, not poshness. It’s suppressing the qualities of the wine. The shape doesn’t allow for the wine to breathe properly, affecting the aroma, which in turn affects the taste.”
Keeley stares at me blankly, then releases the most infectious but obnoxious laugh. “It’s both.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s the glassandyour poshness. Do you hear yourself? The glass suppresses the aromas.” She mocks my voice as she puts her glass down, and something propels me to grab her hand, pulling her into me as I press a finger to her lips.
“Wealthy, yes. Posh, no.”
Keeley’s breath hitches and it’s only then that our close proximity registers in my mind. She peers up at me intently, her crystal-blue eyes boring into mine, forcing me to look away as my heart slams against my rib cage. My gaze drops to my finger on her mouth at the exact moment her lips part. Her chest lifts as she sucks in a shaky breath, and I’m powerless to resist her, as all rational thought exits my brain.
My pulse spikes as I lift my hands to her cheeks and stare into her eyes, the world around me fading to black. My muscles tense. My fingers itch to be curled into her hair. And an innerbattle rages inside me with every instinct telling me to walk away.
Keeley doesn’t break my stare, but her tongue swipes across her already glossed lips as she takes a step closer.
And I’m fucked.
I close what’s left of the space between us, pausing with my lips a breath away from hers, my chest buzzing with nervous anticipation. Keeley’s eyes grow round, and I’m unable to hold back anymore, pressing my lips to hers, taking her mouth in a possessive kiss.
She stills momentarily before melting into me, her lips parting to welcome my tongue. Déjà vu hits me and the idea that we’ve done this before catches me off guard, sparking a jolt in my chest.
A soft mewl escapes her and my attention shifts, a groan trapping in the back of my throat, as I crowd into her, lifting her chin to deepen the kiss.
Our tongues dance until Keeley clutches at my shirt and pulls back breathlessly, her tender doe-eyed expression reaching inside me.
She shakes her head in shock, and the movement snaps me out of the moment, even before she tries to speak.
“I—”
