Page 24 of Kismet

“So, that night in Portland wasn’t the start of it for you?” I ask without thinking. I shouldn’t be continuing this conversation, especially not with how it’s making me feel.

“Not at all.” He meets my eyes, giving me a nervous laugh. “I’ve had a crush on you since the first class I took of yours.”

My body warms, and I know it’s more than just the liquor swimming in my bloodstream. “Well, I guess for the sake of honesty, I should admit you’ve held my eye for a while too.”

His brows shoot up as he takes that in. “Before Portland?” he questions softly.

This is so wrong. I shouldn’t be admitting any of this. Yet, my head nods of its own volition, as I say, “Before Portland.”

The air in the room grows stifling as we both sit in thoughtful silence, digesting what we’ve shared. After a few moments, he asks, ever so quietly, “Are you happy with her?”

The whiskey bottle is up to my lips, and I sputter on the drink I’m taking. I was not expecting that. “Going for the jugular now, huh?” I chuckle, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

He shrugs, a boyish grin on his face. Taking the bottle from my hands, he brings it to his mouth. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine.” I rub my hand on the back of my neck, trying to formulate a response to the extremely heavy question. “Uh. I used to be happy. Many, many years ago. We got together when we were kids. We’ve grown and changed so much over the years. At this point, we’re practically strangers.”

Speaking those words—thoughts I’ve had plenty of times before—out loud to another person is like a ton of bricks lifted off my chest. Like I can breathe deeply, and just be me. This façade Aida and I have been keeping up for years is second nature to us now, but it’s also exhausting.

“Damn. Sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. My turn, right?” I ask, wanting to move away from the trainwreck that is my marriage.

“Yup.”

I raise my brow as I ask, “What made you ask that?”

Without missing a beat, he responds, “Happy people don’t cheat on their wives.” His tone is light, and I know he doesn’t mean it maliciously. He’s right, though.

I can’t help the awkward chuckle that leaves me. He’s so blunt. I admire that about him, even if the question stirs guilt in my gut. “For the record, that was the one and only time I’ve ever done that. Not that it makes it any better, but I’m not some serial cheater.”

Holding his hands up, he replies, “I didn’t think you were, Stone. There’s no judgment from me.”

Suddenly feeling much more awkward than I know what to do with, I clear my throat, running a hand through my hair. “Uh, you’re up.”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking over his next question, I’m sure. “Do you ever think about it? The kiss?”

My heart stutters in my chest. All the sudden I’m right back there on that street corner with him against the brick wall. Feeling my body pressed against him, his lips molded to mine. I can vividly feel his breath on my face, taste him, hear the noises he made. I’m there… in my mind, I never left.

I consider lying… but what’s the point? “All the time,” I answer honestly.

He inhales sharply, a dark gaze flying to mine. I bring the bottle to my lips, swallowing a large swig, knowing without a doubt, this is going somewhere it shouldn’t… but there isn’t a single part of me that wants to put a stop to it. I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.

Handing it to him, our fingers brush, and electric energy zips through me from his touch. “You?” I have to know.

“I do too,” he whispers. Setting the bottle off to the side, he looks over and our gazes collide once more. The smoldering heat in his eyes sets me on fire. Not even the storm raging outside could put out the inferno he’s igniting within me.

A low growl tears from my throat as my hand snakes around the back of his neck, hauling his body toward mine. He gasps as our lips crash together, hands fisting the front of my shirt. His lips part from surprise, allowing my tongue to slip inside, invading every inch of his hot, wet mouth.

With our lips still locked, he climbs over the table, and into my lap. His hands leave the front of my shirt, wrapping around my neck instead. His body is hot and hard against mine, hips rolling into me, as we devour each other’s mouths.

My entire body is thrumming with unhinged need, pulse hammering in my ears, and my cock is throbbing behind my pants as he continues to rock his own erection against mine. I can’t get close enough. I want to eat, sleep, and breathe in this feeling, in this moment.

Our mouths break apart as my lips move to his throat, placing kisses all along his neck. My hands squeeze his ass as he writhes on top of me. Goosebumps litter his skin under my touch, and he trembles in my arms.

His mouth is next to my ear, and his soft pants and groans send a shiver through my overheated body. Turning his head, his lips find mine once more, tongue sliding into my mouth with fervor. Hands weave through my hair, gripping the strands at my scalp as we breathe heavily into one another’s mouths.

“I want you to touch me,” he whispers, tongue poking out, and gliding across my bottom lip.

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