Page 24 of Tangled Kisses
And Christ help me, I want to be there when she learns just how much fire she really has.
“Besides, any man who cheats deserves to have his dick sawed off.”
Her head jerks toward me, eyes wide at my blunt words, before a guffaw bursts out of her.
“I’m serious,” I press, leaning closer. “You give yourself to someone, it means something. Hell, it meanseverything.And if he couldn’t see that? Then he never deserved you in the first place.”
She studies me as if I’ve just grown another head. “That’s a very romantic philosophy. One I wish more men would follow. More people, if we’re being honest.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “I’ve always been a total romantic. Can’t help it.”
Her brow lifts, skeptical but curious. “How is that possible in your line of work? Please don’t think I’m judging, but I’dimagine it’s hard to build romantic relationships working at the ranch.”
“Impossible,” I admit, my throat tight. For a second, I almost adduntil now, but I swallow it back, letting the words burn a hole in my chest instead.
She tips her head, flicking her fingers like she’s flipping a switch. “So, you just flip the charm and seduction like a switch? On when you need it, off when you don’t?”
“Sort of. There are a few lines I won’t cross.”
Her lips quirk, but her free hand presses flat against her thigh, like she’s steadying herself as her gaze drops to my mouth. “Like what? No mixing business with pleasure?”
“Something like that.” My grip tightens around the glass, the stem biting into my palm until I force myself to ease up. “I don’t kiss clients on the mouth.”
Her brows raise, surprise. “Ever?”
“Ever,” I confirm. “Kissing’s different. More intimate than anything else. Once you cross that line, it stops being an act.”
Her teeth catch her bottom lip, the faintest tug. “Don’t you miss it?”
My throat works around a knot.
I miss kissing you and yet, I’ve never touched you.
I shift in my seat, focusing my gaze on the fire. Safer that way. “No. Kissing is the most intimate form of communication. And I don’t want that kind of intimacy with my clients.”
“But—”
“Sex isn’t intimacy, Reese. Sex is physical. It can be faked. Hell, women fake orgasms all the time.”
“True.”
“But I can’t fake the intimacy in a kiss. Especially not one of those slow, drugging ones where time stops.”
Our stares lock, steady, unflinching. “Never met a woman who made you want to break the rules?”
Heat licks up my spine.Yeah. You.
But I’m not ready to hand her that truth. Not yet. “Not for a long time. And when she arrives—ifshe arrives—it’ll be the end of my life here.”
Reese looks away, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Guess that makes sense.”
It shouldn’t matter, her reaction. But it hooks under my ribs, sharp and unshakable. If I ever kiss Reese, it won’t be because she paid for it. It will be because shewantsme. Not the mask I wear. Just me. And that thought alone is dangerous as hell.
I swallow hard, forcing myself back into safer waters. “It’s essential. Keeps things clean, so clients don’t confuse business with something more.” My jaw flexes. “But it doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about what it’d be like without those lines.”
Her eyes cut back to mine. “If you were to meet someone. Fall madly in love.”
“Exactly.”
