Page 82 of Hoax and Kisses
I don’t know how it’s possible, but time slows, as if the universe knows how desperately I want to savor this moment. For a few quiet beats, it’s just Zoey. The real Zoey. A version of her I don’t think she’s ever realized exists. And I’m the lucky bastard who gets to experience her like this. It’s enough to make my chest a little tight.
And just like that, time bends and snaps back to the present, and I’m running at full speed again, Zoey dragging me along, her fingers still tangled with mine.
When we finally reach the alcoves, out of breath, she doesn’t let go of my hand. Her chest rises and falls, and mine follows the same pattern.
I can’t tear my eyes away from her. I don’t want to.
“You haven’t answered me,” she heaves, gulping down air.
With my free hand, I smooth the hair out of my face. “About what?”
She steps closer, the words heavy on her lips. “About our kiss. Was it real?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
My answer hangs between us, raw and electric, a spark so powerful it could set the whole world on fire.
She’s so close to me.
I could bend down and kiss her.
Not like I’m about to fuck her into the wall. Not in front of a room full of people.
No. Kiss her like nobody’s watching.
Like it’s just the two of us.
My gaze drifts to her parted lips, and without a second thought, I grasp her waist, bringing her flush to me. “Can I kiss you for real now?”
Her breath hitches and she steadies herself by gripping my arms. She tilts her face up, her fingers roaming over my chest, then intertwining behind my neck. I shiver. “Yes.”
I close the rest of the distance between us and finally kiss her like she was always meant to be kissed.
Slow and unhurried. Soft and lazy.
The first time I kissed Zoey, I didn’t know anything about her, except how beautiful and stubborn she was. I was kissing a stranger that I thought I’d never see again. No connection behind the obvious physical attraction. Just a tangle of wet lips and instant gratification.
The second time I kissed Zoey, I wanted to do so much more, but my restraint kept me on a tight leash. I could tell behind that soft peck that she was hungry for more, but it didn’t feel right to give in, knowing she didn’t have any clarity regarding how much I truly wanted her that day.
Kissing Zoey now is a whole new experience. One I may never come back from. She tastes like rain and promises.
She’s not a stranger anymore. I’ve spent the last two weeks peeling the layers off, stripping away the hard shell, and uncovering versions of her I’ve never met, ones that she had forgotten. And each one makes me want her even more.
Kissing Zoey now is kissing the woman she’s always wanted to be.
There’s no hesitation or second-guessing in the way she responds. She takes what she wants, as if I’ve denied her the possibility all along, and now she’s starving for it.
She tightens her arms around my neck, pressing herself closer until there’s not one inch where her body doesn’t touch mine. I groan against her lips, sliding my fingers into her damp hair and tilting her head so I can savor her better. She lets out her own throaty whimper, and now, all I want to know is how to get her to make that sound again.
She deepens the connection, licking into my mouth, her hand curling around the back of my neck.
I jolt at the ice-cold sensation. “You’re freezing.”
“I d-don’t care.” She kisses me again.
“Zoey.” I grasp her upper arms. “You’re gonna catch a cold.”
Her fingers rap against my ribcage, fisting my soaked shirt in her grip. “I don’t c-care,” she repeats.
