Page 40 of Unleashing Chaos

I part my lips to reply but don’t get to because a warm palm is turning my face back toward Cannon, and when my eyes meet his, they’re bright blue and laser focused right on me.

Cannon’s thumb barely grazes my lip before he drops his hand to mine and moves it back to where it was before Jace’s unsolicited advice mic drop. “Is it true, Desi? What he said? Would you like it if I did that?”

I suck in a breath before whispering on a shaky exhale, “Yes, Cannon. I would.”

He leans down and brushes his lips against mine. His breath is warm, laced with the cinnamon from the liquor. The kiss is gentle and innocent, like butterfly wings fluttering past my lips. When he pulls away, I’m hungry for more. So much more. It’s just a taste of what a real kiss can feel like.

I grip the front of his shirt and move a little closer to him, eager to feel his mouth on mine again. He brushes his thumb over my cheekbone, staring down at me. Seconds tick by but he doesn’t come back for more. The warmth pooling in the center of my being begins to chill. Perhaps that was all he wanted.

“That was . . . sweet.”

I tilt my head to look back at Jace. He no longer pretends that the movie playing on the television is more intriguing than what’s happening beside him. His elbow sits on the arm of the couch with his chin resting on his thumb. His eyes are a deep ash as they lock with mine.

“It was sweet,” I say.

“From the minute I met you, you were anything but sweet. You’re fire and destruction and temptation.” He looks away from me to Cannon. “She wants you to ruin her.”

“She what?” Cannon asks in confusion.

Jace stands and grabs his bottle of water from the coffee table. “Don’t hold back with her. Take what you want and show her what she needs.”

My jaw drops like it is unhinged. Those words. Those words do things to my body that no person has done before. I ache in a way I didn’t know was possible. If Cannon’s kiss left me hungry for more, Jace just made me ravenous.

Jace climbs the stairs, and I continue staring long after he disappears.

Cannon places his hand on my upper arm and says, “Is that true? Is that what you want?”

My gaze slides from the stairs to Cannon, and I swallow hard.

Is that what I want? Do I want Cannon to “ruin me”?

If by ruin me, Jace meant a kiss that makes every nerve ending in my body crackle with electricity, turning me into a live wire, a connection that feels primal and raw in nature instead of tentative and sweet, a touch that scorches every square inch of my skin . . . then yes.

I nod and lift my hand to his, intertwining our fingers and bringing our joined hands to his thigh, resting them there as I say, “Yes. It’s true. That’s what I want.”

“You’re sure, Desi? So much of this is new to you. I don’t want to overstep. It’s all right to take things slow and learn what you want.”

I appreciate Cannon’s concern; younger me would have been charmed by it. I’m years, decades, beyond that. I’ve spent countless nights fantasizing about what I want. I’m not naïve. I don’t need to ease into experiences I’m ready to have. I want to dive in headfirst.

“I’m sure.”

Cannon bites down on his lower lip and grabs my hips, arranging me so I’m straddling his lap. He cups my face again, but this time when his thumb traces my lip, it’s more adventurous. The tip dips into my mouth and slides across my tongue. His expression darkens when I close my lips around him and gently pull away with a kiss.

“You don’t know how long I’ve imagined this,” he says, gliding his hand to the base of my neck and pulling me to him.

“I think I do. I started thinking about it the minute you propositioned me that first day,” I tease against his lips.

He captures my mouth with his. There is no hesitation, no gentle, no sweet. His tongue seeks mine and he hums when he tastes me for the first time. My fingers dig into his shoulders as I give myself over to the sensation. His hand runs down my spine and stops at the small of my back. He pulls me so close that I can feel the hard hills and planes of his body through our clothes.

The kiss is everything I imagined a perfect kiss to be. The glide of his tongue playing with mine and the stings of pleasure when he nips my lip. His hands roaming over my back and sliding into my hair. It’s passionate, hot, and . . .

Cannon slows the tempo, giving me two chaste pecks before pulling away. I move to sit beside him and catch my breath. I sit staring straight ahead at the now blank TV screen, my brain scrambled, bewilderment washing over me.

That had been the kiss I’d always wanted. The kiss Jace had described. Cannon had done everything right—the heat, the passion, even the sting of pain I’d only admitted I wanted in the deepest part of my heart—it was all there.

But I felt . . . nothing. Nothing besides the knowledge that that should have been a kiss that left my panties drenched and me desperate to bring Cannon to my room for the rest of the night.

I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and peer at Cannon cautiously. When I see the same expression on his face that I imagine is on mine, the knot in my stomach dissolves just a bit.

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