Page 53 of The Boyfriend Material Novellas

I lift my hand and stroke a thumb along her jaw. She gasps, then whispers, “Don’t think.”

“I’m definitely not thinking one bit,” I say as I move closer, my lips so tantalizingly near hers.

“I’monlyfeeling,” she whispers.

I thread my fingers in her hair, press my lips to hers, and drink in a kiss.

I savor every last drop.

I indulge.

And I memorize.

Because I don’t want to forget this kiss.

This day. This moment.

It feels different from other moments.

She’s different from other women.

Soon we’ll go our separate ways, but I always want to remember the American woman I met one afternoon in Paris before I had to catch a flight.

That’s how I kiss her.

Like I’ll never forget the taste of her sweet lips, the softness of her breath, the way she melts into me.

Or maybe I melt into her. Because this kiss goes to my head. My mind is a blur, and my body is humming sweet yet dirty music as I kiss her softly, tenderly.

Then a little bit harder.

She feels so right in my arms that I have to wonder if I believe in love at first sight.

But that’s rubbish.

That’s not the way of the world.

That’s not the way ofmyworld.

Only, for a few stolen moments, it feels like it could be.

Like with a handful of afternoons that spill into the next and the next, we could become that.

She slinks her arms around my neck, bringing me closer, her body pressed to mine.

Yes, a few more days of this, and I’d be in love with her for the rest of my life.

That’s the problem.

8

MARLEY

I’m not going to claim to be an expert on kissing.

Sure, I’ve had my fair share of locking lips. But it’s not as if I keep a list of kisses, and if I did, the ratings would be “good, but not great.”

When Reid kisses me, I know this is great.

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