Page 72 of The Time It Takes
I forced reality to settle back into me.
I looked down at him to find his eyes trained on my chest. My hand trailed around the back of his neck, and I grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back so that he looked me in the eyes.
“What are you doing?” I asked sharply as he winced in pain.
He was looking at me curiously when he asked, “Have you ever been kissed?”
At this angle, we were even closer than before. His lips were only inches away from mine.
My silence must have told him enough. I could feel his breath fan my lips with each word he spoke. “Do you want to be kissed?”
I felt his heart pounding against mine. It was as if they were dying to reach each other.
I licked my lips, and it caused his eyes to drop to my mouth. Oops. “By who?” I croaked.
He leaned up enough to caress his nose teasingly against mine. I’d never been so stiff in my life.
“We almost did the other night,” he reminded me.
I shook my head despite knowing it was true.
He smiled at that, and I narrowed my eyes, shoving him away. I stepped out of his grip, but he was up in a second and pinning me back against my bathroom wall. His hands were on my hips and an alarmed whimper rose from my throat.
This was worse. It was worse because now he was hovering over me. I was powerless like this—with him this close to me. The need was too much.
I wished he had kissed me already and put us both out of our misery.
He lifted my chin with his finger to angle my head further back. He traced his thumb over my bottom lip so softly that it tickled, causing me to run my teeth across it.
He cupped the nape of my neck with his hand, keeping his other one on my waist. His fingers dug into my skin as if he was afraid I’d run away.
“Don’t you want to know if you’re any good at it?” he murmured.
My brain was mush, and I was shaking my head and then I was asking, “Is there such a thing as a bad kiss?”
If I didn’t think he could get any closer, he did. He was so close that he was practically inside my skin. He leaned forward and our lips brushed, but they didn’t meet completely. Not yet. When I was about to lean forward to finally claim his lips, he moved away, his eyes searching mine.
“I’m going to ask you again, Damsel, because I want you to be sure,” he said softly, yet his voice was rougher than usual. “Do you want to be kissed?”
By you.
Only by you.
The words were on the tip of my tongue when I heard the front door slam downstairs and we both nearly jumped out of our bodies. The sound of Ben talking to someone muffled through the walls of the house.
We were staring at each other like we’d lost our minds. Neither of us apologized because there was nothing to be sorry about.
I wanted to be kissed by him.
I wanted to kiss him, and I wanted him to kiss me back.
I realized then that perhaps I’d never kissed anyone else because his lips were the only ones that mattered.
Suddenly, it hurt to not kiss him.
Like it might kill me if I didn’t.
Chapter Fourteen
