Page 74 of Take the Sub and Run

Becoming that Sofie over the past few weeks was a sign that she was ready. That she could do what was needed.

Though the Adventure Sofie voice in her head went silent as her body started to burn with embarrassment when the silence stretched on.

“There are a thousand reasons kissing you is a bad idea.” Andrei’s low voice wrapped around her like the silky dark of night.

Sofie closed her eyes, bracing herself to hear a list of all the ways she wasn’t enough.

“And I can’t remember any of them right now.”

Sofie took a soft breath, hope blossoming. Slowly she raised her head, meeting his gaze. The moonlight was behind him, casting his features in shadow.

“My angel.” He touched her temple, tracing two fingers along her cheek to her chin.

Gently he tipped her face up. She held her breath, scared that if she moved, she’d break the spell of this moment.

Someday she’d paint it. This moment of waiting for a kiss. She knew now why Klimt had used gold. She’d use silver.

Andrei lowered his head, brushing her lips with his.

It was a fleeting touch, and yet she felt it through every nerve in the body.

He groaned low in his throat, his arm tightened around her, and sealed his lips to hers.

This moment. This is what she would paint. A riot of color to show every emotion that flowed through her—joy, pleasure, nervous excitement, a prickle of worry that she was doing it wrong.

His lips moved—pressing softly, sliding gently. Then he opened his mouth just enough for her to feel the heat of his breath against her before his tongue gently touched her lower lip.

“Open for me, Angel,” he murmured against her mouth.

She parted her lips, feeling foolish for not realizing that’s what he’d been hinting at.

His tongue slipped inside. He traced the inside of her lower lip, then flicked the tip of her tongue. Tentatively she returned the gesture. It was intimate and strange. His mouth both hot and somehow cool. She realized she could taste mint—toothpaste maybe.

How strange and wonderful that by kissing him, she now knew things, even if they were as small and simple as his preference for mint toothpaste.

Andrei pulled back, resting his forehead on hers.

Sofie’s throat tightened, and unexpected tears burned her eyes.

Her first kiss.

And it had been perfect.

Gently, Andrei eased her away from him, then bent to pick up the blanket that had fallen down around her feet.

She wondered if he’d spread it out on the ground, then lay her down on top of it. She wanted that—wanted the heat and weight of his body on hers.

Instead, he tucked the blanket around her once more, and strangely that felt right too, though she was a little disappointed. That kiss deserved to stand alone, the signature moment of this moon-soaked night.

“Goodnight, Sofie.”

Maybe she should have worried the kiss hadn’t been good. Maybe he’d kissed her out of pity, and she should be mortified.

But their gazes met, and what she saw in his eyes mirrored her own emotions.

What she felt as she looked at Andrei’s dark, silent figure was neither worry nor embarrassment, but hope.

Seventeen

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