Page 17 of Kismet

“Hey, you mind if we stop so I can smoke before we head back to the hotel?” I ask, pulling my pack of Marlboro Reds from my pocket.

Stone stops walking, reaching into his own pocket. “I didn’t know you smoked,” he remarks, pulling out a pack of cigarettes too.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, teach.” I wink, lip curling into a grin. Sticking the smoke between my teeth, I light it up and take a drag. The toxic smoke fills my lungs, making my head feel even lighter. Truth is, I only really smoke when I drink. It’s a nasty habit I picked up in high school that I’ve just never kicked.

“Touché. Can I get a light? I must’ve left mine back in my room.”

“For sure.” I bring the lighter up to the cigarette caught between his lips, flicking it until the flame ignites. The closer proximity has his masculine scent wafting all around me. Leather and spice, with a hint of tobacco. My pulse thunders as his piercing brown eyes hold mine. One unruly black strand hangs over his eye as he exhales the smoke.

We’re trapped in this vortex where we can’t look away from one another. I become very aware of the fact that I’m now backed up against the brick wall and he’s mere inches away from me. The alcohol and nicotine swim in my bloodstream, making me want things I shouldn’t, with someone I definitely shouldn’t want them with.

When I place the cigarette back between my lips and take another drag, his attention drops to my mouth for a split second before returning to my eyes. His Adam’s apple bobs against a harsh swallow, and when he speaks, his voice is raspy, filled with gravel.

“The alcohol hit me harder than expected.”

“Mmhmm,” I breathe, nodding my head. “Me too.” It feels like a prelude, a half-ass explanation for what could come. We take drag after drag in silence. The air is thick around us.

He drops his cigarette on the ground, putting it out with his foot, and I mimic the action with my own.

“We should get back to the hotel,” he says, barely above a whisper. “We have an early morning.”

“Yeah, we should.”

Neither of us makes any effort to move. Time stands still, and the entire world around us—all the people, the cars, the music, all of it—disappears. I’m trapped in his hazelnut spell, dying to drown in his depths.

This is wrong.

So fucking wrong.He’s my teacher. I’m his student. Hell, he’s fuckingmarried.But those reasons are being overshadowed by something else entirely that I can’t resist. Something that, while I’d never initiate, I won’t deny either.

When his palm comes up to rest on the wall beside my head and he steps closer to my body, I can’t find it in me to care about any of it. His tongue pokes out, wetting his lips, and my gaze immediately drops to his mouth, my own lips parting slightly.

“We should go,” he says once again, breath fanning my lips from how close we are.

“Yeah…”

Again, neither of us makes any attempt to separate. To leave. This is like a fucked-up game of chicken. We’re both waiting to see who folds first. Only, we never do.

I catch the moment his resolve snaps. A growl tears out of his throat, and when his lips press down on mine, my eyes flutter closed, breath hitching as my blood heats to dangerous levels of temptation. His lips are pillow soft, so plush, and his scruffy face scratches mine in the most sordid way. My hands grab the lapels of his leather jacket, pulling him into me, mouth parting as he slips his tongue inside. It’s hot and when it licks mine, I groan into his mouth as the flavor of nicotine and whiskey overrides any clear thoughts I possess.

Our mouths move together in perfect synchrony, tongues tangling and exploring. His hand is still next to my head on the wall, his other taking hold of my hip in a bruising grip. I’m unsure if it’s meant to push me away or keep me close. Either way, his mouth makes no move to stop. Instead, intensifying, deepening against mine.

My pulse is roaring in my ears as one of my hands wraps around the back of his head, fingers diving into his dark, unruly locks. When I tug on his hair, his hips grind into mine, and a groan vibrates from my chest when I feel his erection rub against me.

My head is floating on a high from his touch, my body drowning in everything he’s giving me. I never want this moment to end, but it does. Someone in the distance whistles at us, both of us freezing. The spell is broken as he pulls away from me. His lips are swollen and glistening, eyes dark and wild. My thumb comes up absentmindedly, rubbing my bottom lip at the loss of his mouth on mine. All the blood in my body seems to have traveled down to my crotch as I stare at him, dizzy and overcome with need.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, hands raking through his hair. “That was completely inappropriate. I shouldn’t have done that. It won’t happen again. Let’s go.”He spins on his heels, stalking in the direction of our hotel, not bothering to make sure I’m following him.

My stunned mind is somehow able to kick into gear, feet remembering how to function, as I follow behind him.

What the actual fuck was that?!

******

The rest of the weekend flies by with a suffocating level of awkwardness and avoidance. If it weren’t for the subtle changes in Stone’s body language—the way he tenses when we’re near each other, or how his hands are either firmly in his pockets or in tight fists around me—I wouldn’t even know if he remembers the kiss or not, because we simply have not uttered a single word about it.

The next morning when I woke up hungover as shit, we met in the lobby for the convention, then spent the entire day in seminars. He isn’t acting any different—which I guess I should be thankful for—but instead, the heaviness in my chest and the gravel sitting low in my stomach are incessant as I replay Friday night. That kiss… that kiss waseverything. The mere thought that Stone may not remember, or is pretending not to, leaves a sour taste in the back of my throat.

We’re on our way back to Pullman now. We’ve been on the road for about an hour, the sun is blinding, and neither of us are talking. The music is turned up, filling the uncomfortable void, one that didn’t exist during the car ride up. I’m about to open my mouth and confront this mess we’ve found ourselves in, when a song comes on that causes me to laugh.

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