Page 15 of Always Be an Us

"So," I say. "Your father tells me you have bad taste in men."

"That's none of your business," she responds stiffly, glaring up at me.

"The same way my daughter is none of yours."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I take a step closer, about to say something.

I'm not sure exactly what, because the thought disappears the minute her eyes darken, and her tongue passes over her lips.

Everythought vanishes, drowned out by what can only be described as an avalanche of lust, tightening every muscle in my body. We're shielded by the doorway, relatively hidden and in that moment, rationality ceases to exist. Madness appears.

So does the old Declan.

Old Declan did things without thinking. He simply acted on instinct because he wanted to. He did things because they made him feel alive.

That Declan leans down and brushes his lips against hers.

It's supposed to end there, but fuck it, she tastes too sweet.

But then one taste isn't enough. I have to go for another one.

My lips press against hers, as hunger rumbles into me. She tastes sweet and fresh. Like the sea, with a hint of salt on her soft lips. She gasps lightly at first, in surprise and I almost back away until she nips the seam of my lips.

I groan and suck her lower lip into mine. We engage in a sensual battle, as I lick the seam of her lips, wanting inside so I can taste her fully. My arm wraps around her waist, pulling her flush against my body.

"Emma! I need your help."

The voice permeates the fog of desire and we crash back down to earth. I back up so fast it gives me whiplash.

We stare at each other for a second, horrified.

"I–" I don't even know what to say.

So I just turn and walk away.

Chapter Five

Emma

I stand rooted to the spot, feeling electricity coursing through my entire body.

What just happened?

I don’t know. My brain is sending a large error message, like one of the old computers at the library.

But it slowly returns to normal as I watch his car retreating in the distance.

The bastard just kissed me.

And I liked it. Like,reallyliked it. I liked it so much I didn't want him to stop.

He didn’t kiss like I assumed he would–hurried and forceful, taking everything from me to prove his dominance.

No, his kiss was more of a sensuous dance.

It started with a brush of the lips, almost like it was nothing at all.

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