Page 34 of Not Since Ewe
I couldn’t. I was feeling so much, it was hard to make sense of anything. This was all too surreal and confusing. But despite the chaos inside me, one feeling stood out above all the others—the urge to press my mouth against Donal’s.
He leaned fractionally closer, and I mirrored his movement, unable to resist the magnetic pull. We were close enough that I could count every one of his eyelashes.
When his gaze dropped to my lips, I drew in a shaky breath, caught in a dreamlike state. The tightness in my stomach had grown into a low, urgent throb in my abdomen.
Donal’s fingers squeezed the back of my neck as he leaned toward me. Reflexively, I moved to meet him. Our lips touched, hesitant and cautious. No more than the silky soft graze of a butterfly’s wing.
My chest hitched as he drew back far enough to look into my eyes, seeking something. Permission, maybe. He seemed to be waiting to see if I’d push him away.
When I didn’t, he angled his head. I caught a glimpse of a dimple before our mouths slid together. There was no hesitancy this time. Only urgent, warm pressure. My stomach fizzed with pleasure at the sensation, so rich and sweet and breathtakingly familiar. As if our lips remembered each other’s shape after all this time.
I used to think about Donal’s kisses a lot. I’d convinced myself I’d exaggerated their superiority, that it was just my mind romanticizing a youthful memory.
But no. I hadn’t exaggerated a thing. It was every bit as wonderful as I remembered.
His tongue darted against mine, deftly teasing and exploring with the same confidence he’d had as a teenager. Drunk on the taste of him, I curled my fingers in the front of his shirt, tugging him closer as I opened wider. In response, his body curved around mine, the hand on the nape of my neck tightening possessively.
Shivers rippled down my spine as he kissed me harder and deeper. The world narrowed to the demanding crush of his lips, the greedy thrusts of our tongues, and our hot, panting breaths.
Somehow my hands had worked their way under his shirt, and I felt his muscles contract as my fingertips skated over bare skin. His own hands had gone wandering as well. He cupped my breast in one large palm as his other hand squeezed my hip, urging our bodies together.
I gasped in surprise when I felt myself being lifted, our mouths barely even parting as he maneuvered me onto his lap. Once I was straddling him, his hands grasped my hips, yanking me hard against him. We let out matching moans as my pelvis met his erection, and I couldn’t stop myself from grinding against him, desperate for more friction.
But when I felt his fingers move to the clasp of my bra, the reality of what we were doing splashed over me like a bucket of ice water. Once the clothes started coming off, I knew we’d end up having sex, and the thought sent a spike of panic through me.
“Wait.” I jerked back, struggling for breath as I pushed off his chest. “Stop.”
Donal took his hands off me and held them up in a gesture of nonresistance. His chest heaved raggedly as he regarded me with hooded, hazy eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I clambered off his lap and paced away from him, my stomach twisting itself into knots as I rubbed my forehead with the heels of my hands. “What are we doing?”
“I don’t know what you were doing, but I was really enjoying kissing you.”
I rounded on him, and whatever he saw in my expression wiped the smile off his face.
“Relax, okay? Just calm down.” His placating tone had the opposite effect.
“This is a terrible idea. I can’t believe I let you lure me into doing something so stupid.”
“Hey!” Anger tinged his voice as he pushed off the couch. “I didn’t do any luring. You were right there with me the whole time.”
“This was a huge mistake.” I couldn’t believe I’d let myself fall right back into his orbit. How many times had this man broken my heart? No kiss on earth was worth going through that again.
He dragged a frustrated hand through his hair. “Tess, come on. It was just a kiss.”
Just a kiss.
As if it meant nothing. As if anything between us could ever be that simple or consequence-free.
I stared at him in disbelief. He was the last person I should trust myself with. “I can’t do this with you again.”
He flinched but recovered quickly, taking a step toward me with his hands held out. “Okay, look—”
“I have to go.” I turned my back on him and headed for the door, grabbing my purse on my way there.
“Fuck,” I heard him mutter behind me. “Wait.”
In an encore of our earlier argument, he scrambled to follow, arriving at the door right behind me. His hand flattened against the door beside my head before I could pull it open. I tensed, the scrabbling claws of panic in my chest increasing at not being able to escape.
