Page 21 of Mayhem

BRAD

Areluctant sigh escapes as I meet Tess's eyes across the table of the booth we've nested in for hours now. As much as I want to cling to this moment, the deserted restaurant reminds me that closing time can't be too far off now.

My fingers drift distractedly along her forearm, tracing nonsense shapes and letters. Part of me still can't believe how fast everything clicked into place once we stopped overthinking it all. Witnessing Tess so at ease, engaging with me, not some pre-conceived image she’s conjured of me in her head, eclipses any remaining what-if doubts.

Now new, more dangerous questions creep in. Like how difficult resisting the magnetic urge to capture her lips will prove walking her back to the studio. Or how long taking things slow and steady will last. I’m not exactly one to pace myself. Not when I want something.

Or someone.

Because I know one taste of her won't satisfy what rapidly is going to grow into an insatiable hunger once I start. My restless hands itch, wanting to map every supple curve of hers.

But I can't screw this up. For once my impatience can't rule or push her trust too far too fast. This woman deserves to be handled with care as I peel back each hypnotic layer, blinding and wrecking me further.

“Looks like we’ve closed the place,” Tess says, reluctantly leaning back and sliding out of reach. Her eyes sparkle like she’s just woken up from a dream.

If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.

“Guess so,” I say, not wanting this date to end. It’s hard to hide my disappointment.

Her hands slide around my waist as we walk, moving up from holding hands, and I can only stand having her so close for one block before I have to stop.

Under the glow of a streetlight, I turn her to face me, her eyes are bright and questioning, searching mine. God, she’s gorgeous. Pushing through my sudden nerves, I run my thumb along her soft cheek and ask, “Can I kiss you?”

She hesitates for a second, but smiles. “I wish you w?—”

I don’t let her finish, and brush my lips against hers gently, stealing her words, the warmth of her breath mingling with mine so sweetly. But it’s not enough.

I don’t want the sweet, I want the fire. I want more.

Delving deeper into the kiss, I pull her closer just as she pulls me in, meeting in the middle where there’s nothing left between us. Our guards are fully down, and the taste of her is exactly as perfect as I imagined.

My fingers run through her silky hair as her hands slide up my back under my jacket. She leans into the kiss, leans into me, and it’s all I can do not to grind against her. She’s stirring physical reactions in me that are undeniable, but way too early to consider.

I would love nothing more than to take her home and see this through, but I’ve already sworn to myself to take this slow. This can’t be like the rest. Tess isn’t like anybody else.

This is special.

I dig somewhere deep inside for strength I didn’t know I had and force myself to release the kiss, putting an inch or two between us. We’re both breathless, and as I gaze at Tess, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss, I have to fight myself not to dive in for more.

She blinks a few times, as if clearing her mind from a fog. “Whoa.”

“Whoa, indeed,” I chuckle, smoothing her hair that I’ve messed up during the kiss. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been wanting to do that for days.” The admission slips out without thinking, and I internally kick myself for being so transparent.

“Days?” she asks, amused.

I sigh. The cat’s out of the bag, may as well feed it. “Yup. When I first met you, I knew you’d be trouble.”

Her amusement turns into confusion. “I’d be trouble? How?”

“I knew that if I got close, I’d get burned.”

The crease between her brows deepens. “Burned?”

“You’ve definitely set me on fire,” I admit, leaning down to kiss her again, and it’s a slow, meaningful exchange that expresses exactly what has been set ablaze inside of me since we met.

When I pull away this time, it’s even harder to do than the last time. This is insane. The emotions that are rolling through me the longer I spend time with Tess are going to overwhelm me. I’m not used to feeling this much outside of when I’m on stage. In fact, this feels a lot like that. Nobody has ever made me feel this way.

“Well, damn,” Tess whispers, her eyes opening slowly to meet mine. When they do, that electric connection between us sparks brighter again. “How much wine did I actually have?”

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