“I’m not sure what I’m meant to say to that.” My hands reach down for the hem of my dress and pull it down. He steps around to my side of the counter and stands next to me. There aren’t any stools, so there’s nothing to sit on and nothing to separate us.
I know men. I was raised by men. Men don’t intimidate me, but Gunner, he intimidates me. He makes me feel like I’m smaller, weaker, and that I have the privilege of looking at him or being near him. It’s intense, so intense.
“Why are you fidgeting?” He’s so crass, saying what he wants and doesn’t care how the words come out, even if they are velvety smooth.
“You make me nervous.”
“I want to kiss you. Will that stop you from fidgeting?” he says, placing his coffee cup on the counter and taking a step toward me.
My hands shake, and I’m thankful his eyes are on my face and not on my body, because he would see just how much he makes me nervous.
I wonder what he sees when he stares at me. Does he see a confident woman or someone who’s shy and reserved? I’m a bit of both, in all honesty.
“Possibly not,” I answer him truthfully.
“What if I choked you, would that stop you from fidgeting?”
His words shock me. But also excite me. They shouldn’t, I don’t know him.
“Relax, Everly, I won’t choke you. Until you ask for it.”
“What makes you think I’d ever ask for it?” My hands are still as I breathe him in. He’s so close now, right against my side.
“Because I watched your reaction, the thought excites you. I wonder what else would bring you that kind of excitement?”
I want him to kiss me, so much that I stop breathing as he pushes closer around my front. His breath is now heavy on my mouth, we’re mere inches from each other as he stares me straight in the eyes.
“I think it’s best I go.” The words leave my mouth, but my body doesn’t register them. Instead, it leans closer to him. Closer and closer, wanting those lips that are so full, with a perfect Cupid’s bow, to touch mine.
Just once? What does he taste like?
“Maybe so.” Then they touch me, and I lose all sense of who I am at that exact moment. I’m letting a stranger kiss me, and I like it. My eyes close, but he doesn’t take that as an opportunity to move further. Our lips are touching, his soft, full lips pressing onto mine. My breathing stops, then comes in rapid breaths through my nose. My eyes stay closed, and I move my hand to touch him. Our fingers lace together and ever so slowly, he begins to move his lips—savoring me, is what it feels like. Like he wants to take his time taking in every taste of me.
The taste of him, though?
It’s perfect, in so many ways.
A kiss can ignite anything in anyone. But a kiss given by that one true person, that’s a whole new level.
This kiss would rival that.
This kiss would claim and ruin me for all other kisses and make me owned.
His lips are so soft, his tongue delicate as he licks and circles mine. Our hands stay joined. I grip his harder than necessary and tell myself this is an ordinary kiss.
This is not an ordinary kiss.
This is so far removed from an ordinary kiss, that it’s extraordinary.
This is the kiss of a man who’s starved and didn’t know there was a buffet, so he’s trying with all his might to gain access to the room where it’s located.
I am his buffet.
And I welcome him to the table.
Abruptly, he pulls away, our hands separating, and mine drops back to my side.
“It was a pleasure, Everly.”
Is he saying goodbye? Yet, here I am still to open my eyes.
When I finally do open them, I notice he’s holding his coffee, the same one I just tasted on his lips.
Did he not feel it? That insatiable pull, the undeniable connection.
“Oh, okay.”
Gunner pulls out his phone and presses a few buttons, and then it dings in response.
“I have a driver out front ready to take you back.”
I look at the unfinished coffee then back to him.
“Goodnight, Gunner.” I turn on my heel and walk down his stairs to the front door as fast as my feet can carry me.
When I walk outside, I see a black car, much like the ones my father has me picked up in waiting at the front.
I slide in only looking back once, and I see him watching me from a window up above.
And my heart skips a damn beat.
3
To say that I’m confused is an understatement. It’s been almost a week since that night, and every time I close my eyes I dream about that kiss. Of his lips, or that smirk. May has held up her end of the bargain and has posted twice for me already. It was a bet I didn’t want to do, but I’m glad now that I did.