Page 23 of Morally Corrupt

He barely grazes my forehead.

"Goodnight," he says, and then he's gone.

What? No kiss? Where is my kiss?

I'm left flabbergasted, looking at the spot he's just vacated, and I realize something. Maybe my shy girl pretense is backfiring. At this rate, will he ever touch me?

Shit!

I go straight to my room and I dial Vlad. I know what I have to do; I just need a little something to push him.

"Vlad," I say the moment he picks up, "I need you to hire someone to attack us. I need it to be perfect." I start explaining what I need the attacker to do: scare me enough that I'll need to be consoled. Theo would, of course, save the day, and then he would have to comfort me. Ravaged by anxiety and in his arms, the entire scene would end in my much-desired kiss.

"Slow down," he drawls, "you want me to pay someone to attack you just so your suit can save you? You're crazy."

"I'm not. Think about it! The intensity of the situation will make our endorphins run high, and one thing will lead to another and then . . ."

"Yeah, I got that, but really B? That's your master plan?"

"He kissed my forehead tonight. My forehead." I try to emphasize the gravity of the situation. "What if he doesn't think of me sexually? No, I can't have that happen."

"B," he groans, and I can tell he's going to object more.

"I swear if I don't get any action soon, my lips will wither and fall off. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"I'm not sure that's biologically possible, but have it your way. I'll find someone. If it backfires, it's on you, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"You're the best," I exclaim and send him a virtual kiss.

My plan will work. All my plans do.

7

THEO

For the millionth time today, I stare at her, my eyes zoning in on her lips.

Fuck! Why did I decide to be such a gentleman?

But then I remind myself that she's never dated before, and I don't want to pressure her to do anything she might not be ready for. Just last time, she confessed that she's never kissed anyone before.

The thought of being her first, in every way possible, fills me with such possessiveness that I never want to let her go. I already have enough trouble letting her go when our dates come to an end.

I want nothing more than to kidnap her and have my way with her.

God!

I groan internally, shocked at the direction of my thoughts. I can't let my baser instincts ruin this for me. I don't want to scare her with my desires, especially when she's barely become comfortable being alone with me outside her house. I need to push everything down, and just focus on the present — on her.

"Have you decided?" I ask when she puts down the menu.

After our first date, I'd tried my best not to overwhelm her, but I just couldn't stay away. I'd dropped by her house the next day and I'd invited her to breakfast. And so a routine had developed. I could not get enough of her. She was like a breath of fresh air with her artless manner and her sunny disposition . And when I looked into those huge, gorgeous eyes of hers, I felt at home.

Especially after a long week at work, these Saturdays together were all I could think of.

"I'll have the omelet," she replies, giving me one of those sweet smiles I've come to crave more than anything.

Who would have thought I would ever find myself in this position? I'd never imagined I would one day consider a future with someone, not with my promise to my parents still fresh in my mind.

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