Page 8 of New Resolutions

Sometime over the course of our celebrating the kiss turns more intense, more frantic. I can’t help but wonder if he can tell I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. If he can, he doesn’t let on or pull his mouth from mine to tell me how sucky my kisses are. In fact, he is the one who tips my head to the side for a better angle. It’s like he’s trying to teach me how to do it right. When we take some time to catch our breath, I whisper an apology.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“For what, angel?”

“Not having any idea what I’m doing.”

“What?” He pulls even further back so he can stare down into my upturned face.

“I…well…it’s…I don’t really know how to do this…stuff.”

“Kissing?” I nod and try to pull out of his arms trying to hide. “You don’t have a lot of practice kissing, angel?”

“I never…have.”

“Your first kiss?” I nod and prepare myself for him to tell me to leave. “Was it alright I did that, angel? Alright that I took your first kiss?”

I nod my head so hard I’m pretty sure I get vertigo from it.

“Good, because I really want to do it again.”

“Kiss me?”

This time he nods but it’s not like mine. His is slow and determined and…sexy as hell.

“Can I do that, angel? Can I kiss you? Will you give me Christmas kisses, Charity?”

“Yes,” I say it so low and soft I’m worried he didn’t hear it at first but a smile spreads across his full pillow lips that tells me he definitely heard me.

If you had told me this morning I would be spending my Christmas morning kissing a hot guy I just met the night before I would have laughed in your face and told you how crazy that is. Now, I’m sitting in the hot guy’s home practicing my kissing skills. It’s like something out of a holiday romance from Hallmark. Only I wouldn’t mind if it was a little spicier like the books I read instead of strictly PG.

Rhett cups my cheek in his hand and tilts my head perfectly. He brings his lips to mine and softly plays. “Open your mouth for me, angel.”

“Like this?”

I open just a little and he gives me a grunt that might be an affirmation or might be frustration with how little I gave him. He licks my bottom lip and slips the tip of his tongue into the space. A gasp has my mouth opening more and his tongue surges in. He runs his tongue over the roof of my mouth and my tongue, exploring. He speaks without pulling away from my mouth.

“You taste good.”

“Like the wine.”

“Like you with a hint of wine. And you’re doing great. All kissing is about is exploration. Exploring what you taste like. Mm, exploring what you like, what makes you moan when I do it, what makes your heart race.” His hand that was cupping myjaw slips down until it encircles my neck loosely as he goes back to kissing me.

I can answer all those questions with one word…him. He is what I like, what causes me to moan, and what makes my heart race. Just Rhett. Just him.

Chapter Eight

Rhett

I love her shy little kisses. Her questioning first attempts at using her mouth to make love to someone. I love the fact that she’s innocent and I am the one she is allowing to open her eyes for the first time, like a present on Christmas morning. Like she is my gift to unwrap. I love the fact that she is soft in places I am hard, that she doesn’t understand what she likes and doesn’t like yet. I want to be the one she learns that with. I want to be Charity’s first. And her last.

I try to keep the kisses light and soft, softer than I want them to be, so she has time to learn, to explore, to enjoy. But my little angel is a fast learner and after only a few moments of exploration and shyness, she is turning the tables on me and making me feel brand new, questioning what I thought I knew. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve picked her little ass up and sat her in my lap. Her hands come up to find my shoulders as she nibbles along my bottom lip as her hips start to rock against me.

A part of me is afraid we will go too far while another part of me knows we already have. The last thing I want is to scare her away with the intensity I have for her, my sheer need. I have to remember no matter how much we’ve laughed and talked tonight; she still doesn’t know who I really am, all the dark things I’ve done in my life, all the misery I’ve caused for other people…and businesses. Would she still be here with me if she knew? Would she still trust me enough to move against me like she is now? Or would she run screaming?

Or worse…would she change how she is to flatter me? Pretend to be something she isn’t, like so many others have? I couldn’t stand it if she turned away from me but I wouldn’t be able to go on if she started kissing my ass like everyone else does or pretending to be interested in me like the other women who try to catch my attention but only want my wallet.

But God, it’s hard to remember any of this when she’s above me, in my lap, and all around me, her scent, her touch, her mouth. For the first time in my life, my mind empties, and I am aware of only this. No noise, no worry, no guilt, no outside concerns other than making this angel on top of me the happiest woman in the world.

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