Page 36 of High Frequency

Starting with this…

I step into her and cup her face in my hands. Her eyes widen, but since I’ve effectively trapped her hands between us, she can’t push me away, and I don’t give her a chance to object because my mouth is already on hers.

My heart is hammering in my chest, too cognizant of everything I could be doing wrong right at this moment. It’s out of character for me to be so forward—I’m generally the cautious and predictable one—but I’m going with my gut on this, and my gut tells me to be bold in my approach.

It’s a risk that could earn me outright rejection.

Sloane freezes under my touch, but only for a moment. Then her body seems to relax into mine, her arms find their way around my waist, and her lips open to the coaxing of my tongue.

Her taste…damn…it’s as new as it is familiar. A taste I already know I’ll never tire of.

When her tongue slides along mine, goosebumps break out all over my skin. She moans in my mouth, and I feel the soft vibration down to my bones.

Talking about bones…there is no way she doesn’t feel my painfully hard cock pressing into her stomach.

I’m about to end the kiss before I lose all control, when a metallic clang sounds right behind me, startling both of us.

“Sorry,” Sloane mumbles, as she slips around me and bends down to retrieve the thermos she dropped.

“That’s my line,” I tell her, reaching over to grab her wrist to prevent her from putting the distance back between us.

She keeps her eyes aimed at my chest as I turn her to face me.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I can’t explain what happened that night, and it doesn’t even matter if I could. Nothing I can say now is going to take away the fact I hurt you, and no amount of sorry is going to fix that.”

That earns me her eyes, but they’re hard and narrowed, and her voice has a definite edge.

“So you decided to kiss it better?”

I don’t hesitate with my response. “No. The kiss was to make it clear where I stand.”

She lowers her eyes to the ground between us and says, in a soft voice, “Too bad it’s eight years too late.”

Well, I didn’t expect it to be easy.

“We will see about that.”

Sloane

I am petrified.

It took me a long time to get over Dan, and it terrifies me how little control I had over my response to him. My mind was screaming no, but my traitorous body was all over that kiss.

That kiss.

I can’t tell you how often I fantasized about kissing him, imagined being in his arms, our bodies pressed close together. This was so much more, and not just because of the impressive boner I could feel every inch of. I’ve never been this conflicted over a kiss.

It’s not that I don’t believe him—I don’t think he could’ve faked his shock—but for the past eight years I lived with the pain of rejection as truth. It’s become part of me and isn’t so easy to switch off. In fact, I’m not sure I’ll ever be rid of it.

I top up my coffee from the pot still sitting on the small fire. I spilled most of what was in my mug when I dropped it.

“We should probably eat something,” he interrupts my thoughts. “It’s ten to seven, those guys should be here soon.”

Right, there’s a girl who I need to identify and return to her family. Someone is missing their daughter, and here I am, worrying about a silly kiss. Clearly, Dan already put it behind him.

I take the granola bar he offers me.

“Thanks.” I peel the wrapper back and take a bite. Still chewing, I ask, “Should we break up camp now?”

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