Page 10 of Broken-Hearted

He must have the same thought for his eyes to flick to my mouth. “This kiss…”

“I amnotkissing you, Nathan Blackshaw. No way, no how, not gonna happen in this century or the next. Move.”

His lips curve in a crooked smile, and I ask myself what the hell I’m doing not pushing him away.

“But I haven’t told you the details of this kiss,” he murmurs.

Details?

I shrug. “A kiss is just a kiss.”

“Not this one,” he says, stirring my curiosity.

If I don’t get my ass into gear in the next two minutes, I’m going to be late to my shift. I swear Nathan took an extended shower just to piss me off, knowing I wouldn’t walk into the bathroom while he was in there naked. Since my boss is giving me a place to sleep, losing my job will cost me a place to sleep.

I can’t let that happen.

But Iamcurious.

“What about it?”

“Still not interested?” He lifts his hand to my jaw and I lean my head against the wall before he can touch me. Smiling slightly, he drops his hand.

“Not a chance in hell.” He’s not moving, which means I have to move him, and I have a feeling the second I put my hands on Nathan Blackshaw, it’ll cause me problems I don’t need.

He raises a dark brow. “Not even a little?”

“Nope,” I lie.

“It would be a good one.” His eyes flick to my lips and they tingle in response to his heated stare.

“I doubt that very much, Blackshaw.”

“Then I guess the only way we’d know for sure is for this kiss to happen.”

“Which it won’t, so I guess I’ll never know.”

“And you’re good with that?”

“Perfectly.”

And yet, I do nothing to push him away.

“Sure about that?”

My eyes dart to his mouth. “Unless you were to tell me.”

He cocks his head. “Tell you what?”

“What makes this kiss of yours so special? Then I might know if you’re any good at all or you’re just talking out of your ass.”

“Well…” he drawls, his expression thoughtful. “I’d have to start slow. Ease you into it.”

I snort. “Everyone knows that.”

“I’d slide my palm around the nape of your neck,” he says. “Then I’d slant my head. But only a little. So when I run the tip of my tongue along the seam of your pretty lips, the angle would be just right.”

My heart trips. “Why would you need to do that?”

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