“Far, far away,” he whispered.
My eyes grew wider as he neared. His mouth was saying the opposite of what he was doing. Something inside me burned to know more, to know everything about him.
“And what if I don’t want to stay away?”
“It’s wise advice. But you’re the one paying the bill,” he said.
It sounded like a warning, so I moved my head back, putting a little space between us to think straight.
“What exactly is it that I’m staying away from?” I asked, “An upstanding citizen who drives women and their children home from the doctor and goes to war to fight for our country?”
“A man who has no capacity to know what’s right or wrong anymore. Someone who tears things apart”—he paused, and I could feel his warm breath flush against the apple of my cheek—“and doesn’t stay to put them back together.”
Kael’s fingers were warm when they caressed my chin, tilting my head to see his full face. His breathing slowed and the air between us became more serious. The stakes were growing with each second that passed.
“A man who’s a killer,” he whispered.
Adrenaline shot through me and I held his eyes. “I . . . I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” Kael’s eyes were on my lips as I nodded.
He kissed me the way I’ve only read about in poetry. I now understood what all the poets and writers complain about when they lose their love. This was that feeling they all chased, missed, remembered, would die for another chance to feel again. His lips opened and his tongue slid across mine. I would never forget this kiss, it was now a part of my DNA, the intensity of emotion, a rush unlike anything else I could explain. I wondered how anyone could possibly live after feeling this even once.
Kael’s hands lifted me up onto the counter and my legs opened and he stood between them. His hands gripped the tops of my thighs as he devoured me, body first, then mind. His ACU jacket was crunchy between us, but I could still feel his heart pounding as I put my hand on it, next to the pocket. The way his heart danced under my palm felt like he was playing a song made just for me. This connection with him, this consuming connection, was otherworldly. I had never desired to be this close to someone before, not even when I was a teenager and confused infatuation with love. Pages of all the romance novels I had read, every scene from the dozens of rom-coms, all flicked and fluttered in my mind. They finally made sense.
His hands were pressing against my back, holding me to his chest. My mouth and entire being were docile in his hands as they cupped my ass, my hips, my neck. Whoever he was and whether or not I ever found out wasn’t on my mind as I kissed him for the second, third, then the tenth time. He carried me to my room, never letting his mouth leave mine, and I used my foot to slam the door behind us. I ignored the little bell going off in my head, reminding me that I shouldn’t fall for this soldier. My body ached, begging me to give in to its desire, and as he landed us on my bed, I let my mind go mute and allowed myself to lose control for once in my life.