Page 80 of One More Heartbeat
“I—”
“I think we should kiss again.” Zara’s words are a fast-moving train, flattening what I was going to say.
It takes a brief moment for her words to register in my head. I stare at her for a rapid heartbeat, stunned. There’s not enough space in my head to get my thoughts together, and I clumsily blurt out, “You do, do you?”
“I do.” She sucks her plump bottom lip into her mouth. “But only if you do.”
I’m too busy staring at her mouth, imagining what it would be like to suck her lip between my teeth, that I almost miss her second sentence.
My gaze flicks up to meet hers. How could she possibly think I wouldn’t want to kiss her again?
“I do.” My voice is a featherlight murmur. All I seem capable of is getting lost in her beautiful, chocolate-brown eyes.
The subtle jasmine scent I associate with Zara wraps me with a need I never knew was possible. Just thinking about her lips on mine…I can barely draw air into my lungs.
She tilts her head up, her eyes telling me all I need to know. I lower my mouth to hers, giving her time to change her mind.
Christ, I hope she doesn’t change her mind.
My mouth doesn’t meet hers. It just hovers there as I breathe in her scent, her breath fanning my lips. Shit, I want to taste her so badly…
Her mouth meets mine before I can finish the thought. Like last time, the kiss is the gentle brushing of lips. But unlike then, the light press of my lips against hers, the tiny taste, the small sip of perfection, isn’tenough. I want to drown in her kiss, to become intoxicated with it. To savor it.
Zara parts her lips on a gasp, so quiet I barely hear it. And without a twinge of regret or self-doubt or a second thought, I plunge my tongue into her mouth, unable to hold back any longer.
Fuck.Fuck, she tastes…she tastes like chocolate and the finest scotch and heaven all rolled into one.
She grabs a fistful of my shirt and pulls me to her. Our bodies crash together, erasing the space between us. Zara makes a tiny sound, and it’s the tinder tossed onto a campfire. Heat and desire flare in me, consume me, devour me in the best possible way.
I slide my fingers into her hair and cradle the back of her head. Tilting her head more, I deepen the kiss.
The kiss becomes a hungry exploration of her mouth, a slow dance of tongues, the drawing out of the moment. Zara moans, and I greedily absorb the sweet sound. The vibration reaches every cell, every nerve, drives every electrical current in my body.
And for the first time in a while, I feel alive. Like I can face all the problems heavily weighing on me. The book deadline. The stress of being a single father. The unknowns when it comes to Peony. As long as I’m kissing Zara, everything will be fine.
The kiss, the taste of her, the warmth of her in my arms—it all feels so good.
So addictive.
Christ, I was an idiot thinking I could easily walk away after one more kiss.
There’s no way I can’tnotkiss Zara again. But how on earth do I navigate this new terrain between best friend and something more without risking a train wreck?
29
ZARA
The last thingI expected after I left Simone and Lucas’s house was that Garrett would show up at my apartment, and I would declare we should kiss again.
The words had slipped out without thought. And once they were freed, I didn’t want to snatch them back—especially not after he’d agreed weshouldkiss.
But we weren’t talking about the brushing of lips, like the accidental one more than two weeks ago. That kiss left my body tingling, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Garrett’s lips on mine.
And we weren’t talking about the second kiss, which had been not much more than the brief touch of our lips.
This one is…it is…there are no words to describe it.
Of all the kisses I’ve experienced over the years, none of them compared to that third kiss with Garrett.
