Page 163 of Bone Deep
Anthony’s snickering somewhere behind me.
I don't care. Not even a little.
I scan the room and spot a small office just off the kitchen. Perfect. I pull Ryan inside and close the door, the click of the latch sounding like a gunshot in the sudden quiet. Then I turn back and lock eyes with him, and the want in his gaze nearly brings me to my knees.
But on my knees is not where I want to be right now.
I haven't kissed anyone in years. Not since my brain decided that intimacy was a currency I would no longer spend. I've trained myself not to want, not to need, not to crave the heat of another person's mouth against mine.
But Ryan stands there in his ridiculous chef's hat, looking at me like I'm the only thing in the world worth seeing, and every wall I've constructed crumbles to dust. I need to show him—with more than just words—how he’s completely turned my world on its side in the best possible way.
I grab the front of his chef coat, shove him against the wall and crash our mouths together.
The first touch of his lips against mine is a revelation, a shockwave, a fucking explosion. I gasp against his mouth because it's too much and not enough, because I've forgotten what this feels like and because I've never felt it likethis.
Not with anyone, not ever.
His lips are softer and warmer than I imagined. The taste of him—God, the taste of him—floods my senses until I'm drowning in it, until I can't remember my own name, until the only word left in my vocabulary ismore.
Ryan makes a sound against my mouth, surprised and hungry, and then he's kissing me back with a desperation thatmirrors my own. His hands find my waist and grip tight, fingers pressing into the fabric of my jacket like he's anchoring himself to me, like he's afraid I'll disappear if he doesn't hold on.
Tossing the hat somewhere aside, I slide my hands into his hair, and the strands are silken against my fingers. I want to touch every part of him, want to map his body with my hands and my mouth until I know him better than I know myself.
Neither of us is easing into this kiss. Now that I've finally let go… I can't stop, won't stop. I kiss him harder, deeper, tilting my head to fit our mouths together more perfectly, and Ryan groans against my lips, the sound vibrating through my chest. It settles somewhere low and aching in my gut.
God. I've wanted this. Wantedhim. For so long.
I just wouldn’t let myself have him.
The years between my last kiss and this one disappear, rendered meaningless by the heat of Ryan's mouth. He kisses me like he's been starving for this too—like he's been standing on the opposite side of the same locked door, waiting for me to finally turn the key.
His forehead bumps mine and I feel him breathing, feel the shudder in his chest, and my breath catches because this is real, this is happening.Ryan is kissing me backand I never want it to end.
When we finally pull apart, we're both breathing hard, chests heaving, the air between us charged and electric. Ryan's cheeks are flushed, his lips swollen and wet and red from my mouth. His eyes are bright and dazed.
He looks wrecked.
He looks beautiful.
He looks like mine.
He smiles, soft and tender, completely undoing me.
“Hey, Perfect.”
In this moment I realize—with a jolt of panic, desire, and absolute certainty—that I've made a terrible mistake. Because now that I've tasted him, now that I know what his lips feel like… not to mention the sounds he makes when he's breathless with want, I will never be able to stop.
I have opened a door I cannot close, crossed a line I cannot uncross, and I am already addicted to the heat of him, his scent, the way he looks at me like I'm worth loving.
I am completely, irrevocably, terrifyingly gone for this man. And I have no idea how to survive it.
Tears start streaming down my face.
Ryan's smile instantly falls. “What's wrong, baby?”
A laugh bursts out of me, wild and unhinged and a bit manic. He tilts his head, concern deepening. I take a step back and throw my arms into the air.
“What's wrong?” I shout a little sarcastically. “What's wrong?” I laugh again. “My whole life plan is up in smoke. That's what's wrong.”
