Page 25 of Own the Eights
He barked out a laugh. “Nope, I can tell you from vast experience, a kiss can be good or bad, completely separate to the level of connection.”
“Is that what you preach with all your vast experience to your Marks Perfect Ten Mindset minions?” she asked, using air quotes when she spoke the name of his philosophy.
“I’ll remind you that sixty-nine percent of my minions are your minions.”
“Don’t remind me,” she hissed and pressed her fingertips to her eyelids.
They drove in silence as the navigation app led them through Denver.
You have arrived.
He pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine as they unbuckled their seatbelts.
He turned toward her. “We need to get something straight here, Georgie. I help a lot of people improve their lives with my blog posts and recommendations.”
She dropped her hands to her lap and leaned in. “Well, so do I, and it has nothing to do with constructing a fake facade.”
“You think I’m a fake?” he shot back.
“I think you’re all too concerned with appearances and dead wrong that there’s a right way to kiss.”
“Thatsuperficial stuffyou rail about is called chemistry, and there is scientific data that not only is it real, it’s a cornerstone of a healthy relationship. Plus, my blog is all about gaining confidence. And yes, confidence matters when you’re kissing.”
She slapped her knee and laughed. “Confidence? What about mutual respect and the desire to know someone’s heart? And, I bet you’re a terrible kisser. You’re probably all lips and teeth and tongue.”
She opened her mouth and raised her hands, mimicking what looked like a tiger ripping a gazelle to shreds.
Heat rose to his cheeks, and he cupped her face in his hands. “Looks like there’s only one way to find out.”
Her National Geographic tiger versus gazelle expression vanished, and she held his gaze.
“What do you say?” he asked, baiting her.
“What are you waiting for?” she threw back, not giving a damn inch.
“I’m going to kiss you, Georgie, and it’s going to be the best kiss you’ve ever had.”
“Doubtful,” she answered in a tight breath.
He tilted her head, and her warm breath tickled his lips. “There’s something you need to know about me.”
“What’s that?” she asked as her hands gripped his forearms.
“I don’t settle for anything less than the best. I work damn hard. I finish everything I start, and I always win.”
She bit her lip. “That’s too bad.”
“Oh yeah?” he breathed.
“Yeah. Prepare yourself to lose this competition and this kiss challenge because I’ll tell you right now, I have more determination in my little finger than you do in your entire perfect, muscle-bound body.”
He brushed his thumb across her petal-soft lips. His pulse raced, and his blood supply headed south, straight to his cock. Georgie closed her eyes and gasped as he made another pass. The tip of her tongue met the pad of his thumb, and a switch flipped inside of him. With her sweet lips still slightly open, he closed the distance between them.
And it was…poetry. Fucking poetry.
She sighed into his mouth, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and he slid a hand into her hair, deepening the kiss. He forgot who he was and what he was supposed to be doing. All that existed was this woman and her exquisite mouth. Their tongues met and retreated, licking and caressing. She tasted like that dollop of French vanilla ice cream on warm apple pie. He inhaled, drowning in thoughts of her blue-green eyes and the elegant curve of her neck, meeting the clean line of her jaw.
“Jordan,” she whispered between kisses, and his skyrocketing pulse kicked up another notch.
