Page 61 of Faking the Shot
God, I want him to make me moan.
“Valentina.”
His shout jerks me out of my daydream, and I whip around just in time to see a small flame sparking on the stove.
“Oh fuck,” I yelp instinctively reaching out with my bare hands.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kaden roars as he grabs me around the waist and yanks me back before I can touch the flame.
I stumble into him, my back hitting his chest, and for a moment, all I can feel is the heat of his body and the firm grip of his arms around me. The air feels charged, like every nerve in my body is tuned to his presence.
“You can’t just stick your hand in a fire, Holiday,” he growls, his tone threaded with frustration—and something else. Concern?
I stumble backward, pushing the flour bag and dropping some on the counter and myself. This day can’t get any worse. I sink onto the floor, my legs giving out as the adrenaline crashes over me. My hands rest on my knees, my breathing uneven, and I glance down at my flour-dusted arms and shirt, feeling sticky, ridiculous, and utterly drained.
Kaden turns back to me, slightly out of breath. When he sees me sitting there on the floor, he immediately drops to his knees in front of me. His hands move over my face and arms, his dark eyes scanning me like he’s checking for burns.
“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low but urgent. The intensity of his concern makes my chest ache in a way I don’t want to think too hard about.
I blink at him, my lips twitching as I push back the adrenaline still coursing through me. “I’m fine,” I mumble, brushing some flour off my leg.
His hands linger on my arms for a moment longer, his gaze searching mine. “You scared the hell out of me,” he mutters, his tone softening.
“You know,” I say finally, “I’m really starting to question my culinary expertise when I’m around you.”
His brows lift, and I can see him trying to suppress a laugh, his lips twitching as he fights it. But it’s a losing battle. He throws his head back and laughs—a deep, booming sound that’s so full and genuine it seems to shake the walls around us.
Despite my embarrassment, his laughter is infectious. I can’t help it—I start laughing too. Soon, we’re both sitting on the flour-coated floor, clutching our sides as we howl at the absurdity of the situation.
As the laughter dies down, I reach up to my hair, grimacing as my fingers find clumps of flour. “Ugh, I’m a mess,” I mutter, pulling at what feels like a hardened chunk.
“Nah,” Kaden says, his voice softer now. “You’re beautiful.”
He reaches out and gently wipes a streak of flour from my cheek, his fingers lingering there. The playful glint in his eyes is gone, replaced with something deeper. His gaze locks on mine, and my breath catches in my throat. The way he’s looking at me feels like a pull—like gravity shifting to center around him.
I know what’s coming. He’s going to kiss me. It’s written in the way he closes the distance between us, his movements slow and deliberate, like he’s giving me a choice. But there’s no hesitation in me—I don’t want to stop this.
There’s no audience, no cameras, no performance. Just him. Just us.
Closing the last inch of distance, I press my lips to his.
The moment our mouths meet, everything else fades. His lips are warm, firm, and insistent against mine. I let out a soft moan as he tilts my head back, deepening the kiss. His tongue brushes the seam of my lips, and I part for him, welcoming the heat, the taste of him, the way he makes my head spin.
This kiss is electric—passion and hunger wrapped in a moment that feels like it might burn us both alive. My hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping him as if he’s the only thing keeping me steady here on the flour-dusted kitchen floor.
The kiss breaks, but his forehead stays pressed to mine, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us. My back is against the cabinet, his knees planted on either side of me, grounding us in this messy, unexpected moment. My heart is racing, and I can feel the same energy humming through him.
If I was confused about how I felt about Kaden Crawford before, this kiss clears everything up.
I’m falling for this man—hard and fast—and I have no idea how to stop it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kaden
The Good Girl Game Plan
My heart hasn’t stopped racing since the moment I saw her reaching for the flame with her bare fucking hands. What the hell was she thinking? I can’t shake the image of her hurt. What could’ve happened to her if I hadn’t been here: Skin blistered,her beautiful face twisted in pain. I can’t stomach knowing it almost happened.
