Page 82 of What are the Chances

Her lips press against mine. Our kiss isn’t slow and cautious. It’s eager—eager for the memory of what was and what still is.

It’s as if no time has passed. She tastes the same. When she parts her lips, allowing my tongue to possess hers, I fall in love all over again—over and over again.

I slide my hand down her back, scooting her down the bed. She follows me, wrapping her arms around my neck, keeping me close. Bending my knee, I slide it between her legs, placing my arms on either side of her head, and bend down, caging her in.

“Hey, Mase. Wait.” She speaks the words between our kisses. I slide my tongue along the soft, smooth skin of her neck. She tilts her head back and taps her hands against my shoulders.

“What is it?” I break my mouth away from her skin, concerned. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I stare into her eyes, hanging on the words she’s about to speak.

“Everything’s perfect.” She lifts her hand and rakes her fingers through my hair, brushing the ends away from my forehead. She grins, her perfect soft lips curling into a smile. “I was just wondering, what do you think the chances are that you were serious about getting another cat?”

My body shakes above Charlotte’s as I let out a laugh. She lifts her legs, running them along the sides of mine. Her chest lifts from the mattress as she laughs with me.

“Charlotte,” I groan. “I’m trying to be sexy here.” Still grinning, I lean down and press my lips to hers. This time I take it slow, feeling as if everything in my life is just as it should be. Perfect. When I pull away, I stare into her eyes, already knowing the answer to her question.

“I think the chances are pretty good.”

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