Page 67 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

For a second, I don’t move. I just stare. Because this is ridiculous now. This feels like something is closing in, like the space I built for myself is shrinking whether I want it to or not.

I open my mouth to say something. Anything. But I don’t get the chance.

His hand comes up, fast but not rough, finding my jaw, tilting my face before I can step back, before I can gather the pieces of my self-control I just barely started to piece together.

He kisses me.

My breath catches against his mouth, my body going still for half a second too long before everything reacts at once.

Heat. Shock. Recognition.

His other hand finds my waist, pulling me closer, closing whatever space I could’ve used to think, to stop this.

I should stop this.

I know I should.

But for that brief, dangerous moment, I don’t.

I can't.