Page 71 of The Kiss Countdown

When I open my eyes, I turn around in Vincent’s arms. “Thank you for bringing me out here.”

He reaches a hand to cup my cheek, tracing the arch of my eyebrow with his thumb. Yearning shines through his eyes loud and clear. It’s a look I’ve seen there before, buthe’s always been quick to eclipse it with a smirk or smart remark. This time, however, he doesn’t veil his desire.

In turn, I study his face. I like how the light from the stars illuminates his dark skin. It scares me how with each passing day, I discover something new I like about him. With each passing hour, his gravity pulls me deeper and deeper into his orbit, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to escape even if I want to.

And right now, I don’t want to.

My gaze focuses on his gorgeous lips. We’ve kissed. Twice now. Once at the New Year’s Eve party, then at the birthday dinner. But those times were for show. No one is around now but us.

Glancing back up, I see Vincent’s hooded eyes watching me, like he’s waiting for me to make the first move.

My heart hammers in my chest as I stand on my tiptoes and slide my arms around the back of his neck, bringing his face down to mine.

Once our lips meet, time stops. Gravity is gone. We’re standing in the center of the universe, and everything is spinning around us.

I knew my imagination didn’t hype up how good our first kiss was. But this right here—this is everything. The softness of his lips as they move against mine. The taste of him as I sweep my tongue over his bottom lip. He tastes heavenly, like all the stars and galaxies I never knew existed.

We’re in a fight to get closer to each other as his fingers tighten around my waist, and I push my body harder into him.

In what feels like too short a time, my recovering ankle gives out. I lose my balance, but Vincent is quick to steady me. He’s always quick to steady me. He holds me tightly,with my head pressed against his muscled chest, and we both gasp for air.

“I need to get you back to the cabin,” Vincent says, and I shake my head.

I don’t want to go. I want to stay in his arms and feel his mouth on mine again. I want it more than I want my next breath.

Vincent unhooks my hands from around his neck and brings them to his mouth, blowing warm air onto my skin. “You’re turning into ice out here.”

It’s only then that I realize how cold it is. A shiver races through me as the wind picks up, and Vincent leads me back to the truck. He helps me in, then turns the engine on and sets the heat to full blast.

“I need to get the tent. I’ll be right back,” he promises.

I swallow and nod silently. He shuts the door, and already the magical haze is dissipating. Gone is the allure of standing together under the stars, and I have to wonder whether the Vincent who comes back will be the responsible man who knows what a bad idea it is to let things between us go any further.

Vincent’s silhouette emerges from the trees. He’s moving fast. The tent is loaded on his back, and the cooler, table, and pillows are balanced in his arms. He places everything in the cab, then opens the door and jumps into his seat.

He rubs his palms together and holds them over the vent. “Are you warmer?”

“Yes.” I remain facing straight ahead, knowing that disappointment for the turn of events is heavy in my tone.

I sneak a glance at him. He hasn’t started driving yet. He’s just gripping the steering wheel, and it looks like an internal war is raging within.

Finally, he heaves a deep sigh and drops his hands from the steering wheel. He looks at me with his jaw tight, like something is my fault. “I need to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Well then. “Okay.”

His upper body shoots over the armrest and he sweeps me up in another mind-blowing kiss. All my thoughts and worries disappear into the ether, and I kiss him back with equal force.

I run my hands over his biceps while his travel under my shirt, sneaking up to cover and knead my breasts. The bite from his hands, still cold from being outside, both hurts and feels too good to withdraw from.

An actual squeal escapes me when he leans back into his seat, pulling me with him, up and over the armrest, and I land straddling his lap.

“Sorry,” he pants. “I didn’t hurt your ankle, did I?”

A bubble of laughter dances up from my chest, and I don’t recognize this weightless, carefree feeling. But I relish it. And him. “No, it’s perfect.”

“Good.” He grabs my hips and trails kisses along my neck, and all I can do is close my eyes and enjoy the sensations. I’ve wanted these hands and lips on me for too long. It all feels a little unreal.

Real or not, instinct takes over, and I start rocking back and forth, grinding our hips together. Vincent kisses his way back to my mouth and sweeps his tongue along my lips. I gladly open, giving him entrance. With our mouths entangled and bodies rocking, within moments I feel the building of a familiar, delicious pressure. And once I finally explode, I collapse onto Vincent’s chest.

---