Page 34 of Instinct & New Identity

“Good, honey, ‘causeI’mgonna do it again,” he said, right before he kissed me again, this time with his hands on each side of my face.

He tilted my head to the side and deepened the kiss, andIgasped, trying to take a breath.Hetook advantage of that and slipped his tongue inside my mouth.Hetasted amazing.Hissmell was also intoxicating.Itwas a combination of his soap, leather from his jacket, and just his own natural woodsy scent.Betweenhis taste and smell, plus his touch on my skin, my senses were overwhelmed.

I didn’t know how long we kissed, because time seemed to stand still.Iloved every moment of it, and he was an amazing kisser.NotthatIhad much to compare to sinceI’donly ever kissed two guys before.

My first wasJimmywhenIwas fourteen.Hewas terrible and had bad breath, which was whyInever kissed him again.Thesecond was my first real boyfriend,Mitch, and he was better at kissing, but he only dated me because he thoughtIwould have sex with him.WhenItold himIwasn’t ready to go all the way with him,Ifound out he lied and told everyone at schoolIwas a terrible lay.Ibroke up with him the next day.

Because ofMitch,Ihesitated to go out with any guys for a while after that.Myplan was to try again with a more mature guy while in college, but that never happened the wayIthought after my parents died.Iwas sureVincehad more experience thanIdid with girlfriends.

Oh myGod!Girlfriend!HowcouldIforget?

“You have a girlfriend!”Igasped, breaking away from him and covering my mouth. “Whydid you kiss me when you have a girlfriend?”

“What are you talking about?”Helooked at me with genuine confusion on his face.

“Your girlfriend!”Isaid, trying to point out the obvious to him and feeling my anger rising again. “Imet her today when she came to the office looking for you!”

His face went from confused to a small smile, as if the light had just turned on in his brain and he remembered something important.

“Tall, skinny blonde, fake tits, and tight clothes who toldRuthieshe was dating me.Isthat who you’re talking about?”Vinceasked me.

I thought back to what she had looked like and gave a curt nod back to him.

“Mercedes is not my girlfriend.Imet her at theWateringHoleone night a while back.Weboth had too much to drink and ended up at her place afterwards.Itwas a one-time thing, butMercedesobviously feels differently.Tammywas the bartender that night and was asking me about work,Mercedesmust have overheard, and decided to show up at work today to see ifIwanted a repeat.Idid not, soIpolitely declined.”

Part of me was relieved they weren’t dating, but the other part of me was upset that he had sex with her.Iknew people had casual hookups, and it was obviously beforeIhad moved here, but it still bothered me.Shelooked nothing like me, soIdefinitely was not his type.

“So that’s what’s got you all riled up today?” he asked. “YoumetMercedes, who lied to you andRuthieabout being my girlfriend, and that got you all worked up.”

I didn’t want him to think thatIwas that pathetic, soIstuck with the reasonIhad been giving him up to this point.

“Umm, no,”Idefended. “I’mupset because you won’t letValand me help out.”

“Sweetheart,I’vebeen telling you for a weekIdidn’t want you contributing, and it never seemed to bother you before,” he said and moved one step closer, removing the gapIhad just put in place.Hewas within mere inches of my face again, and a smirk began to take over his face. “IfIdidn’t know any better,I’dsay you were jealous and upset when you thoughtIhad a girlfriend.”

Blast this man for knowing my inner thoughts and feelings.Thiswas not good.

Beeeep.

Thankfully,Iwas saved by the buzzer.

“Dinner’s ready!”Iall but yelled in his face and hurried away from him to the oven.

I tried to take deep breaths asIpulled the casserole dish out of the oven, hopingIcould get my heart rate to slow down and not feel like it was about to jump out of my chest.

“Mmm.Thatsmells good, whatever it is,”Vincesaid.

I avoided looking at him becauseIwas sure my face was still pink, soIspoke to him while looking down at the meal.

“It’spastelón.It’skind of like thePuertoRicanversion of lasagna,”Isaid just asIheard the door to the apartment open.

“Honey,I’mhome,”Valyelled from the entryway, andIcould hear her footsteps walking into the kitchen. “Isthat smell whatIthink it is?”

She entered the kitchen with wide eyes and a big, hopeful smile on her face.Whenshe looked down at the kitchen island, she gasped, and her smile got bigger.

“Pastelón!Oooh, what’s the special occasion?”Valasked me.

She knewIdidn’t make this often, so while her question was valid,Ididn’t want to get into the specifics with her becauseIwas afraid it would start another argument withVince, but apparently, he felt differently.

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