Page 50 of Known By You
“I’m glad you came,” I said, my voice pitched low. Temporary or no, I wanted her here. That wasn’t me, not normally, but with this woman, I couldn’t seem to resist taking whatever she’d offer, even if it was to the tune of a ticking clock.
Her gaze found mine as she took the towel from me and dried her hands.
“Listen, I’m sorry about last night. I never?—”
“I’m not.”
She blinked, mouth opening, then closing.
“Truly, I’m not. And I don’t think you should be either.” I wanted this to be very, very clear for her.
She set the towel aside, moving in a way that said her mind was occupied, so her movements were distracted.
“Okay. Can I ask why? You didn’t seem to—” she cleared her throat “—return the interest.”
Her cheeks were pink, but her eyes locked on mine.
“That was a misunderstanding.” This was the point at which talking failed but doing could triumph.
“Oh?” she asked, straightening. “Because I didn’t?—”
In one swift movement, I stepped into her space, cupped her face with my hands, and leaned in so I was only a few inches away. Dipping my head, I waited while the tension built, her chest rising and falling scant millimeters from grazing my body.
“Let me be clear. You surprised me last night and I froze. I’m kissing you now because I wanted to then and I want to now.”
And then I closed the distance between us and took her mouth with mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Elizabeth
Kenny kissed like he had been ordained to do the job.
Literally, it felt like he was on a mission to claim me with his lips, and he wouldn’t accept defeat.
It was… stunningly hot.
Also rather unexpected.
For all the sweetness and sunshine he displayed, the gentleness and respect and courtesy, there was something demanding and almost base in the way he drove the kiss.
And me?
I more than happily hung on for the ride, opening to him when he demanded it, tilting my head when he urged me to, hooking my arms around his neck and pressing into him as he did me.
He groaned and broke the kiss, bent down, and picked me up by the back of the legs and deposited me on hiskitchen counter. As he stepped between my knees, his large hands settling at my waist, I found my voice.
“Well, that was…” I didn’t know. Still hadn’t regained the full powers of speech, apparently, but Kenny was already shaking his head.
“Not done yet.”
His voice was gruff and so full of need, it made my stomach clench, then somersault when he dipped his head and kissed me again.
We were pressed together, every slide of his lips and tongue coaxing me from solid to liquid. The sounds he made, the way he was breathing, how his big hands splayed over my ribs, grasping but not moving up or down despite my internal pleas for it. With my thighs bracketing his narrow hips and my hands in his hair, I was utterly lost to any reason this wasn’t what we should do until the end of time.
Until he pulled back, squeezing my waist again and exhaling like he was catching his breath after a run.
“So. You did want to kiss me.”
