The Kiss

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Her eyes flew to mine, wide with surprise.

Without thinking, I reached out and cupped her jaw, pulling her toward me. I captured her mouth roughly, wanting only to feel the heat of her lips and tongue.

Kissing her couldn't erase the past, but maybe it would make me forget...for just a few minutes.

The kiss was filled with longing and need, and all the familiarity of her washed through me.

She tasted like mint and tea and bread, but also distinctly like Jessica, a sweetness I'd ached for years to savor again. A noise that started in her throat as a surprised squeak ended in a throaty moan, making me hard.

She kissed me back, her hands gathering my T-shirt and pulling me close.

The kiss, the way our tongues swirled, was better than my memories. Way better. This was nothing like when we were teenagers, nothing like our hesitant, awkward encounter. This was an adult kiss, a real kiss, a kiss of clear lust and pure, needy pain. And because she was tall, she fit into my big body just right. Nothing had felt this good in years.

I put my other hand on her jaw and held her face possessively, our mouths tangling for long moments, devouring each other. My hands slid down the soft skin of her neck and into her silky, curly hair. I'd thought of this a million times, of being with her again.

For years, I'd vowed to never think of her again, only to realize I couldn't stop remembering.

Now, she was kissing me as if she needed my lips to stay alive. That was everything I'd dreamt of and more.

"Leo," she breathed, smiling against my mouth. "You kiss better than before."

I chuckled, a low, easy sound that shocked my ears. I hadn't made any noise that contained a tone of joy in a long time. "You didn't like the way I kissed five years ago?"

She opened her eyes wide. "No, I meant...well, this is different. Wait. Kiss me again and I'll decide."

"How's this?" I growled, wanting nothing more than to lay her on the stainless steel table and climb on top of her, enter her, own her, leave her wanting more.

One of my hands went into her hair, and the other went around her waist. Within seconds, we were devouring each other's lips again. Her hands skimmed my chest, and I shivered, slammed with so many familiar feelings and sensations I couldn't keep up.

She broke away. "Remember how awkward it was our first time?"

I nodded and chuckled, trailing my nose against her cheek. "I didn't know what to do with my legs."

That made her laugh—hard.

"And remember how much we did it that second week of the vacation? How good we ended up being together?" I whispered in her ear.

"I've never forgotten."

I didn't want to bring up how we'd eventually run out of condoms and were so crazed with hormones and lust, we did it a few times without. That's what led to all the problems. No, I wanted to forget all that. All I wanted now was to squeeze her hard, bite her, be inside her.

My hands ended up on her ass, pulling her toward me, and she moaned when I gripped her tighter. The pleasure ripping through my body was almost unbearable after years of pain—after years of being apart from her. I felt myself falling, falling, falling into the sensation.

Coming to my senses, I pulled away and smoothed her hair.

Wait—scratch that, I had to have her. Now.

I leaned in, desperate for another kiss, but her gaze flitted down to her chest. Her eyes widened when they landed below my belt. My intentions were obvious.

She stepped away abruptly and straightened.

"Wow. That escalated quickly." She pulled her hair back with both hands.

"Yeah. It did," I muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. A twinge of the old anxiety pinged my mind, the anxiety about everything I was running from. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I kissed you back. I...I don't know what came over me."

I'd taken things too far, too fast. "I understand. I was outta line. I apologize."

We stared at each other, and I saw her chest heaving. She licked her lips, which made me want to kiss her again. But, no, I couldn't allow myself to do that again. If I did, I'd never stop. I'd take her upstairs and toss her on the bed. And if we ended up in bed, I'd want her to sleep over. And if she slept over, I'd have to explain the night terrors—explain everything else. No way would I open myself up like that or expose her to my hell. What was the fucking point?

"Jess, baby," I said softly, using the nickname I used to call her.

She looked up expectantly and stepped forward. By the way she tilted her head, I suspected she anticipated another kiss. My eyes shifted to the clock.

"Listen. Uh, I just remembered I'm supposed to call my dad now to talk about the business. He scheduled me to call 'cause he's so busy and everything. So, I need to take care of that."

She was clearly shocked. Her eyes widened, and her mouth gaped. Then she recovered. "Oh! Right. Okay. Well, see you around. Tomorrow, maybe."

I followed as she hurried toward the door. "Yeah. Maybe at the Slimy Lizard."

She shot me a tiny smile. "The Sloppy Iguana."

"And I'll bring some pastries by. Promise." I'd keep my word about that. But my earlier resolve not to pull her upstairs to my bed was dissolving. I had to get her out of here fast. God, I was a coward.

I unlocked the door and opened it.

"Night," she whispered, then leaned up and pressed her lips to my cheek.

I stood in the doorway, speechless, aching, as she walked away. Then I closed the door and shut my eyes. Shit, I'd been rude. An asshole.

I'd just shared an incredible kiss with the first and only girl I'd ever loved, then threw her out on the street.

But I had a damn good reason.

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