Page 71 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

“Oh,” I say, on a shaky breath.

His lips move from my neck to my jaw, and he peppers kisses there until finally, his lips are hovering above mine.

“Zane,” I whisper his name. “I—“ I stop to swallow. “I don’t know if I’m very good at this.”

This makes him stop, pulling his face farther away from mine. “Good at what?”

“At kissing,” I say.

He furrows his brow, looking at me. “What do you mean?”

I don’t want to ruin the moment, but I’m so nervous right now, and I feel like he should know what I’m thinking.

“Macey?” he asks, looking me in the eyes.

“My, um, ex-boyfriend, Caleb,” I say. “He said I wasn’t good at it ... at kissing. He told me when we broke up.”

“He sounds like a jackass,” Zane says, his lips pulling up slightly.

“He absolutely is,” I tell him, trying to return the smile, but my lips feel sort of wobbly at the admission. I still can’t believe the audacity Caleb had to break up with me, kick me out of my apartment, and then once I was all packed, sit me down and inform me that he found me lacking in the kissing department. How did I stay so long with that idiot?

“Well,” Zane says, his hand coming to rest on my neck. “I don’t think I believe him.”

Then, softly, his lips touch mine. It’s a little more than a peck. Just his lips putting pressure against mine. He pulls away and looks at me, asking permission with his eyes to do it again. I nod, minuscule up-and-down movements of my head.

He leans in again, and this time, our lips lock together. Placing the hand that’s not at my neck on my back, he pulls me into him, and his lips begin to move over mine. Slowly, and gently, like I’m being cherished.

I wrap my arms around him then, pulling myself even closer, eliminating any space between us, and the hand resting on my neck slides to the back, his fingers threading into the hair at the nape.

Then kisses start to morph into something less gentle, less careful, and something fiery and heated. I angle my head to the side and feel his tongue run over my bottom lip. I open my mouth then, giving him access, and he takes it, dipping inside my mouth, making heat swirl around in my belly.

My mind keeps wanting to question if I’m doing it right, if Caleb was right about me, but the way Zane holds me, the way his lips move over mine, I can barely string together a coherent thought, except for one: I don’t want this to end.

His kisses slow to a stop, and he pulls away, leaning his forehead against mine, our heavy breaths mingling together.

“Macey,” he says, leaning in to kiss me softly once more. “Caleb is an idiot.”

This makes me laugh. “Good to know,” I say.

He dips down to kiss my neck again, and I bite my bottom lip, feeling happier than I have in a long time. Here, in this little garden, with Zane.

ZANE

A letter from Zane to Macey, Saturday, September 21, 1:02 a.m.

Miss Bennet,

You brazenly kissed me last night in the gardens. I know you will claim it was I who initiated it, but I maintain the blame lies entirely with you—and that rose-and-vanilla scent you always wear. Truly, it left me powerless.

For this reason, I must confess that I most ardently wish to do it again.

I trust you will conduct yourself with greater propriety tomorrow. Or don’t. Honestly, it’s much more fun when you don’t.

Yours in propriety (or lack thereof),

Mr. Darcy

“YES!” A TEARY-EYED JANE says to Bingley after he’s proposed to her.

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