Page 16 of The Last Kiss

Firm hands rub on my arms. “You’re freezing, ma petite.”

I don’t know if I’m shaking from the cold or because I don’t want to leave this place; this magical moment that’s been carved out of the dismal reality that surrounds me.

When I walk to the Tube, the magic will break. It will snap in two and this moment will never happen again. It will fall into the folklore of my history that’s soon to be complete.

I turn, patting his chest. “Thank you for di—” His lips catch mine. I stumble back, off kilter, off balance, until his arms stretch around my back, pressing me upright and into his chest, while his hands run up my spine creating a shivering tingle.

Kissing.

He’s kissing. Me.

Like nothing else could ever exist.

Shock makes my lips open. The tang of wine brushes from his mouth into mine, warm and delicate, Beaujolais grapes really are the best.

Instinctively, I flick my tongue gently, tasting for more. His hand cradles my jaw, strong fingers tilting my face to the angle he wants. And who am I to disagree?

Kissing.

It’s a kiss unlike any other. He dives, and I sweep. I shift forward, he edges back. It’s a game of chase that I don’t want to end. One of us will need to breathe soon, but a challenge rises between us, who can be the first to go without air.

I will. I’ll make the sacrifice just so this never ends.

I make little gasping noises as his chest presses against my damp, wool-covered body. There’s a tingle down in my toes that threatens to unleash a fire through dry and barren land. I’m the arid hard earth after a harsh winter and with each probe of his tongue a little flower blooms to life. A snowdrop pushing against the January ice, flourishing despite the winter chill.

His lips slow, one long press, then another, and then another. He’s going to come up for air and I will be left forever remembering this moment that a perfect kiss broke. And it stops. A deep aching pull tugs deep down in my stomach, my eyes sting—I’d say it’s from the bitch of a wind. He doesn’t let go of my face. “Mon dieu,” he breathes against my skin.

My God.

I fucking know.

My God.

I’ve been kissed to within the final inch of my life. The kiss of all kisses has made me almost forget that life itself is nearly over.

“Nightcap?” he growls low in my ear and I push back to look up at his shadowed face.

This is insane. I need to get off the crazy train, because it’s leading me to a place I shouldn’t be going. I’ve got my ticket for my final destination and it’s somewhere I can’t take anyone else.

Knowing all this doesn’t make ‘no’ any easier to say.

It teases on my tongue with the leftover tingle of his kiss.

“I should go.”

He tugs on my coat, this mystery man, with the eyebrows that talk and the hands that… Jesus Christ, what could those hands do. “You should stay. Another half an hour.”

I meet his gaze, wanting to steal another kiss before I run into the night. “Where?”

“My hotel is just across the road.” Otel. I want him to repeat every syllable. It’s like my new, favourite music.

“How many steps?” I grasp the lapels of his overcoat. If he gives me the steps I can work out if I can make it.

Without a beat, his eyes lift over the top of my head. Then he leans back to glance down at my legs, arching a brow. “For you, twenty-five.”

I snort a laugh. A magical sound on a day where laughter could have come to a final end.

“Not a step more.”