Page 42 of Singing For His Kiss

She thought that this kiss would relieve her. That having one taste, one kiss would cure her from wanting more. How wrong she was.

One kiss could never be enough.

The world dissolved into his body heat, his hands, the wet heat of his tongue, his mouth, the press of his toned chest and solid arms. She wanted James like no one else she’d ever desired. Had never known yearning this compelling. This absorbing. Pulling her so swiftly to places she subconsciously hungered for.

James tugged the hem of her T-shirt free from her jeans, his palm flattened over her bare skin. A moan escaped her mouth. Searing heat lanced her skin, shooting a path straight to the juncture of her thighs, pooling, melting, aching. She wanted to feel him, his skin against hers, the silken heat. She was entering a world that didn’t allow thought or reason.

Reason.

Stop. Had to…stop.

The bare fragments of something urgent, something forbidden hammered at the back of her mind.

What was it again?

Thoughts spun inside her mind. One finally snagged into a semblance of meaning.

She was going to leave. She had to hide. She was a criminal. No good for Madeline or James.

It was enough for her mind to cool, thoughts to still, some logic to return. She needed to stop kissing him.

Right. Now.

She flattened her palms, pushing against solid muscle. She didn’t manage a lot of strength or conviction, but it was enough for James to open glazed eyes.

As hard as it was, she stepped back, cool air brushing against her flushed skin. Her mouth tingled from his kiss, and she could taste him on her lips. Her heart pounded, and blood roared in her veins. She struggled against her instinct to melt against him again.

She forced her hands from his shoulders and dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’m…I’m sorry.” Her voice was still husky from need. “I shouldn’t have done that. I should have thought…” What—thought better about the way she so desperately just wanted him to kiss her?

“I’m not sorry. Elizabeth, I wanted to kiss you. I wouldn’t have kissed you...at all…especially like that…if I didn’t.” He regarded her, a frown pulling at his forehead.

All she wanted to do was fall back in his arms and keep kissing him, but good, logical reason made her arms drop to her sides and keep her feet in place. “I wanted to kiss you too, James. But I can’t kiss you again." She held up her hand when he want to speak, settling for honesty. “I will be leaving, and it'll be hard enough to leave Madeline and… and you, too. When the time comes. There are reasons I have to leave. Reasons I can’t explain to you, but if you knew them, you’d thank me for keeping them to myself.” She licked suddenly dry lips, her heart heavy as lead. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“I said I would help you, Elizabeth.”

And how easy it would be to let him. But he didn’t deserve that mess. “You’re better off, James. I’m sorry, I really am. I came here to ask you to have dinner with us, but I think it might be best if you just had dinner with Madeline. Things are just getting a little out of hand. It was a mistake.”

She turned and fled down the stairs, knowing if he insisted, she couldn’t trust herself to buy in to the fantasy that little bit more. Pretend they had a future. That that one kiss would turn into something more. Something lifelong.

But there would be no more kisses. There would be no more anything. As soon as the road was cleared, she would be gone.

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