Page 47 of Book People

Her eyes widen, then turn smoky, and her full mouth hardens. ‘Oh no, I’m not testing anything. We already did that and not only did you push me away, you told me it would never happen again. You want me dancing naked, you’ll have to beg for it.’

This is wrong. This is very wrong, and yet the words come out of my mouth all the same.

‘Come here, Miss Jones,’ I order.

She hears the change in my tone and her eyes darken even further. ‘No,’ she says. ‘You want me, you’ll have to come and get me.’

So many reasons why this is a bad idea.

So many reasons I’ve told myself I can’t do this with her.

But they’re all excuses.

Like I told her, sex won’t be just sex with us.

It will be a cataclysm.

Perhaps that’s why I start walking. Not out the door, but towards her.

Perhaps I need a cataclysm in my life. That’s why my heart stopped the moment I first saw her. Why my world shifted on itsaxis. Why I’ve been nothing but restless since the moment she arrived.

My life has felt suffocating, pressing in on me, and I never saw that until she appeared. Bringing with her the endless joy she has for books, the respect and care she has for readers. Building communities, making connections. Doing things differently while all I’m doing is the same.

I’m trapped in the past.

Trapped by my life. Suffocated by my history.

She makes me want to blow it apart and why not?

Perhaps it’s time.

And perhaps I’ll start with her.

I move around the breakfast bar and stalk up to her. She watches me and I can’t read the expression in her eyes now. But she doesn’t move away as I come closer. She leans back against the kitchen bench and looks up at me from beneath golden lashes.

There are only inches between us. I can feel her warmth, smell the scent of her body, vanilla and musk and summer sunshine. The pulse at the base of her throat is racing.

This moment, just before I touch her, is precious. Aching with tension. Infinite with possibilities. I want to make it last, because I have no idea what will happen after I take this step. One thing I do know, though, is that things will change, and change is something I do not care for.

Yet I think it is also something I need.

I take her hands in mine. They are small and her fingers are slender. She is trembling slightly, but it’s not fear I see in her eyes.

I guide her hands to my chest and hold them there, pressing her palms flat so I can feel her touch bleed through the cotton of my shirt. Into my skin.

Into my blood.

Into the cells of my being.

Suddenly, I feel as if I’ve been suffocating for years and never noticed, and only now, with her hands on me, can I take a full breath.

I look down into her eyes, see the flames of desire flickering high. And I allow myself this one indulgence. Her name. ‘Kate,’ I murmur.

Her lush mouth opens and her hands are pressing hard to my chest, fingers curling into the cotton of my shirt as she rises on her toes.

And presses her lips to mine.

Chapter Thirteen

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