Kissing this woman is the smartest thing you’ve done in a while, young man, the voice of Reb Moshe said in his head. David groaned because while he was kissing a beautiful woman was the most inconvenient time for wizened, fictional chassids to suddenly decide to talk to him.
Shoshana made a low sound in her throat that could have been an answering moan and he felt something inside him lurch toward her. His fingers tightened on her jaw and her palms were finding their way to his cheeks. Her fingers sliding into his hair, knocking his kippah askew. He liked it, wanted to encourage her initiative so he stepped into her, falling into the kiss by default. He was surrounded by her smell, she was all spice and musk and something tantalizing that he couldn’t quite put his finger on but it made his senses come alive.
Her fingers tightened in his hair and he realized he would either have to deepen the kiss or pull away from her. He ached to open his mouth to her, to taste her mouth, to claim her. But it was too soon, wasn’t it? It had to be. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this need to be touching a woman. He tried to find his self-control, but it seemed to have fled the moment her body pressed into his.
You’re an infinitely foolish man, David, Moshe screamed in his head, the voice of the old man saying his name the traditional way, Dav-ode. It was a little thing, but it was what brought him back to the moment.
He broke the kiss. He was aware that he was breathing hard, like he’d gone for a quick run around the block, but as much as he had to stop kissing her, he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away. He touched his forehead to hers, aware that she was also breathing quickly, that her fingers were tight in his hair. She’d caught the small suede circle that was his kippah before it could fall off his head entirely, and her sure fingers were setting it back where it should be, even as her body pressed to his. She didn’t want to stop this either. Perhaps hewasbeing ridiculous.
“Shoshana,” he said. Her name was a sigh in his mouth and her head turned against his, her lips brushing his jaw as she sought to find his lips again.
“Don’t stop,” she breathed, and the pleading in her voice was headier than the strongest wine he’d ever tasted. He closed his eyes, trying to remember why he had to stop. Why they needed to go into the restaurant like two people on a date and not two people intent on clawing each other’s clothes off. Because, frankly, that was where this was going, he knew.
That was why he had to stop.
Because if he didn’t stop, he wouldn’t. Not here, not now, not when she was against him and her heart was beating in time with his own.
“We have to stop,” he said, hoping he sounded like he knew what the fuck he was saying. “We have a reservation.”
“Fuck the reservation. I want to make out,” she said, lifting her head enough to look him in the eye. Her eyes were glass-green, and the makeup that had been applied so artfully around them made them appear larger, more luminous in her face.
“I did warn you this might happen.” He laughed, because he couldn’t remember the last time, he’d heard an invitation so compelling. His thumb traced a line under her bottom lip.
“It’s not my fault you’re a good kisser,” she said, “you could have warned me.”
“Ditto. Come inside with me,” he said, and was caught by surprise when she turned her head, her teeth catching his thumb lightly, teasing. He felt something lurch inside him and knew he had to stop touching her or he was going to get arrested.
“Stay out here instead,” she said, and somehow her fingers were twined with his and she was indicating a cafe table in the corner of the garden nearly obscured by the hedges.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to distract me?” David said, hoping he sounded curious and not a little annoyed. Because the fact of the matter was, he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing this woman. But to give into that so soon would be to reduce the relationship toonlythat, and he couldn’t help feeling that to do that would be to miss out on something spectacular.
“Is it that obvious?” she said. The hand that wasn’t holding his reached up to pluck at her lower lip. She fidgeted. He noticed a beauty mark just to the right of the hollow of her collarbones. He forced himself to bring his attention back to her face. She sighed, sounding defeated, “We can go inside if you want.”
“What just happened...” David said, touching her face. She turned into the touch like a cat. He could feel the vibration of a sound that was not a sound in her throat.
“It would be so much easier if we just had sex and got it over with. Please?” she said, her eyes flicking to his. He caught a flash of naked vulnerability in her expression that made his heart ache.
“As far as offers go, that one should be really attractive,” he said, his fingers lightly running through her hair, “So why do I feel a little insulted?”
“David--”
“We are very clearly into each other. We have spent an inordinate amount of time talking and, correct me if I’m wrong here, but I think we get along pretty well,” he said, gesturing between their bodies. The statement was obvious, like saying the sun was shining.
“Please, would you just--”
“No, I won’t,” he said. He wasn’t angry but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t confused and frustrated. He disentangled himself from her body, stepping back enough that he could get his own equilibrium back. Stepping away from her was good, it meant that smell was no longer surrounding him. He could think better. Her fingers tightened in his and he stopped himself from pulling away from her entirely, but only just. “Explain to me why, when you are soclearlyattracted to me that you’ll offer sexual favors--”
“I’m scared, okay? I’m--I mean I can’t--this--it was a bad idea.” She pulled away from his hand, crossing her arms over her chest. He was caught by the way the top she wore snaked off one shoulder, so that even though she was covered to her forearms, that curve of shoulder was sensuous. She let out a shaking breath and he realized she was serious. Her eyes held something close to panic.
* * *
“Shoshana--”
“Stop,” she said, lifting her hands to ward him off, “just stop saying my name like that.”
“Like what?” His brow was furrowed in concern, and she got the feeling that if he understood exactly what was happening, he would be doing his level best to fix it. That knowledge tore at her heart and she almost turned away from the look on his face.
But she couldn’t. She could barely focus on her breathing just now.