Page 32 of Frog

I smiled at him.

“I didn’t, though. I would never try and make you jealous or—I don’t play games.”

“Yes, I know that.”

He stared up into my eyes. “You realize, when you’re with me, you’re the only one I see.”

“Which is real nice, Dr. Benning,” I told him, putting a hand around his throat as I bent to kiss him.

Quick whine from him as his eyes closed and his lips parted. I sank my tongue into the wet heat of his mouth, claiming, taking possession, feeling more raw and vulnerable than I thought I would.

He melted against me, arms wrapping around my neck as he gave me his weight, and I bent him back, clutching at him as I ravaged his lips. He always tasted so good, kissed me like no one ever had, like I was all there was.

It went on, and long minutes passed before he broke the kiss to gasp for breath.

“Jealous,” he heaved out the word.

“Pardon?” I growled at him, leaning my forehead against his, our noses side by side, touching, bumping.

“Even though I had nothing to do with it, you’re jealous of what’s his name.”

“Ross,” I provided.

“Yeah.”

“He’s a stockbroker.”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed, his thumb sliding over my bottom lip, his groin grazing my thigh.

“Well, I’m not.”

“You’re not what?”

“A stockbroker. Pay attention.”

He huffed out a breath “No, you’re not.”

“We both know you can do better’n me.”

“We believe two completely different truths,” he assured me, hand on the nape of my neck, stroking, the other now clutching at my shirt.

“I—” What was I going to say?

“You?” He prodded.

“Even when I’m gone—that guy doesn’t deserve you.”

“Say what you mean.”

I cleared my throat. “Don’t ever kiss him.”

“Or?”

“Or fuck him or do anything with him at all.”

He licked his lips. “Okay, cowboy, it’s a promise.”

I walked him back into the wall, and when I pinned him against it, the moan he released made me smile down into his eyes.