Page 87 of Right Man, Right Time
“Still thinking about that?” I ask.
“Ollie, I’ll be thinking about that for a really fucking long time.”
His thumb rubs over my cheek, and for some reason, I lean toward him, wetting my lips.
My body is reacting to his touch.
To his soft voice.
To his gentleness.
To our proximity.
“Were you mad I left? Would you have preferred I stayed in the sauna with you?”
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m not sure I should answer that.”
“Because you’re afraid the truth will scare me?” I ask as I glance at his lips.
“No,” he answers as his jaw ticks with tension. “Because we shouldn’t be talking about that.”
“You brought it up,” I say, leaning in closer.
His eyes glance at my lips and then back up, the tension in the car so palpable that I actually can taste it.
I can taste him.
“It’s ingrained in my brain.” His thumb drags over my cheek, down to my mouth, where he tugs on my bottom lip. His body inches closer, and I prepare myself for his kiss.
It’s not like we haven’t kissed before, but this feels different.
This feels real.
This feels like we’re about to cross a line.
I hold my breath, my eyes connected to his.
What I wouldn’t give to taste him again.
To feel his lips against mine.
To have him tug on my hair with his strong hand as he angles my mouth for better pressure.
He takes a deep breath, his eyes flitting back and forth between my eyes and my lips.
God, just do it.
Just kiss me.
End this pounding, aching, searing feeling pulsing through my veins.
And when he leans in another inch, I feel my heart stop...just as he pulls away, putting so much space between us that a wave of cold trickles down my spine, as well as embarrassment.
He pushes his hand through his hair and then swears under his breath before gripping the steering wheel.
“Uh, do you want me to walk you up to your room?”
I blink a few times, trying to regain my composure as I shake my head. “Uh, no, that’s okay.”
