Page 78 of Hypnotized By Love

“I could, or I could ...” His words trailed off as he started pressing soft kisses along my jawline, and I sighed happily.

Sierra’s words came back to my mind again, and while he was busy mapping out my face and neck with his lips, I found the strength to say, “I’m supposed to be talking to you.”

He paused long enough to look up at me. “Do you want to talk right now?”

“Not particularly.”

“Me neither,” he agreed.

While I waited for that moment when our lips would make contact, he surprised me by rolling me to his left side. He didn’t let me get far—our legs were intertwined, and I was still in his arms.

Our faces were near enough to kiss, and just as I was about to close the distance, he spoke.

“I know I said that I didn’t want to talk, and as much as I love kissing you, I want you to see me as trustworthy again. If I earn your trust, I hope that you’ll share why you’ve been so angry with me. What I did to make you stop talking to me and cut me out of your life. Because I miss you, Sinclair. I’ve missed you every day for the last six years. I miss what we were, and I definitely miss what we could have been. What we could be now if you would talk to me. But I’ll respect you and give youwhatever space you need. Just know that I’m here waiting and ready to talk to you.”

My heart fluttered up into my throat at his words, and there was no way for me to respond. He missed me. He regretted what had happened. He wanted to be with me. He wanted a relationship.

There was no denying any of that.

So instead I kissed him. Maybe I couldn’t trust his words yet, but this felt like something I could believe in.

His right hand moved up to my face to cup it, and he immediately gentled the kiss. This was completely different from the last time we’d made out.

It still had all the same fire, heat, and passion, but this kiss conveyed things, emotions. There was longing, sweetness, tenderness, and something else I refused to name.

Maybe those pesky feelings my sister insisted were there.

His whispery kisses were making my legs melt away. There was such a surety and confidence to the way his lips touched mine. Pleasure spread through me like warm honey, leaving me languid in his arms. Our mouths moved in harmony, like a dance. I remembered him talking about the silent communication that happened in a dance through touch, and it was happening here, too.

He was telling me things I wasn’t ready to hear.

Instead I focused on what I felt.

Each kiss from him was exquisitely soft, smooth, intoxicating. I sank deeper and deeper into the sensations he was creating—liquid fire slowly moving up and down my veins. He had me dizzyingly floating in darkness and heat, tethered only by his sweet mouth on mine.

If I’d been blown away the last time he kissed me, somehow this was even more. More intense, deeper, meaningful.

We might have stayed like that for seconds or for hours—time had lost all meaning. There was only Mason and him kissing me. The only things that mattered in the entire world.

The front door slammed shut, and I heard my father call my name.

I swore and pushed Mason so hard that he fell off the bed. “You have to go. Now!”

“Can’t we just tell them—”

“No!” There was nothing to tell them. “I may be an adult, but if my dad finds you in my bedroom, he’s going to make you a eunuch.”

“Neither one of us wants that.”

I ran over to the window and pulled it all the way open. Mason scooted out backward until his feet made contact with the trellis. Although I was panicking, I did have a quick moment where I felt like Juliet or Rapunzel.

That feeling intensified when he reached through the window and kissed me, quick and hard and not nearly enough.

I had to put a stop to it. The muggy night air was clearing my head of the cobwebs he’d spun. What was I doing? I couldn’t kiss Mason. I pulled away.

“Until the next time I kiss you,” he said.

“There’s not going to be a next time,” I hissed. “There shouldn’t have been athistime.”

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