Page 89 of The Defender
My reaction was so swift and visceral, I would’ve been embarrassed had I not been consumed by the sheer pleasure of the kiss. By the slide of his hand through my hair and the firm, insistent pressure of his lips. By the way his tongue coaxed me open and explored with aching sensuality. By the all-consumingrightnessof the moment.
A hazy memory resurfaced—us in the arcade, playing pool and trading secrets.
I’m sorry your first kiss was such a terrible experience. I hope you’ve had better ones since then.
And I had. But every other kiss paled in comparison because this? This was the kind of kiss that upended worlds.
Vincent pulled back, his breaths heavy. “Tell me,” he said roughly. “Does that taste like the kiss of someone who’s lying?”
I’d lose every single fucking bet in the world if it meant I could be with you.
My throat dried.
That was all it took. One question, and I was undone again.
Instead of replying, I grabbed a fistful of his coat and yanked him toward me, my mouth finding his in a kiss that made the previous one seem positively chaste in comparison.
I’d lose every single fucking bet in the world if it meant I could be with you.
My heart threatened to pound out of my chest. I wound my arms around Vincent’s neck as the rain fell steadily around us. Thunder continued to boom, shaking the dark shop windows and rattling my bones, but I barely noticed.
Our first kiss was an exploration, but this one was an expression of everything we’d been holding back for weeks, if not months—the desire, the comfort, thecravingwe had for each other. No words could adequately describe it.
Vincent fisted my hair and used it to gently tug me backward, under an awning and out of the rain. My back hit a wall, and the hard contours of his body pressed against mine in a way that drove every other thought from my mind. I wouldn’t have been able to remember my name if someone asked.
His hands roamed my curves with delicious thoroughness, like he was trying to memorize every inch of me with touch alone. I arched into him, letting his warmth fill all the empty, lonely places inside me that I hadn’t known existed.
Out of everything I’d tasted tonight, this kiss was the most intoxicating.
We might’ve stayed there forever, wrapped up in each other’s arms while the world sailed on without us—had said world not intruded in the rudest way possible.
“Get a room!”
The drunken shout shattered the moment as surely as a hammer smashing through glass.
My eyes flew open, and Vincent and I broke apart in time to see a group of guys in matching fraternity sweaters stumble past. They whistled and catcalled us until one of them tripped on a loose stone and faceplanted on the pavement. His friends forgot about us after that.
A giggle climbed up my throat. Vincent looked at me, his mouth twitching, and that was all it took. We burst into laughter, our bodies shaking as I pressed my face against his chest and he buried his face in the curve between my neck and shoulder.
It was the perfect, absurd end to a perfect, absurd night.
The high from our shared amusement mingled with the high from our kiss. If I hadn’t been holding onto him, I would’ve floated into the air.
The rain gradually stopped. The frat boys wandered off, and Vincent and I were alone again.
“We should head back to the villa and dry off,” he said. “I don’t want us getting sick.”
“Good idea.” We were both drenched. We couldn’t return to the club like this, and I didn’t even want to know the state of my hair and makeup. I probably looked like a drowned rat, but I didn’t even care. It was worth it.
As we walked back toward the main street, Vincent’s fingers interlaced with mine. Fresh warmth curled in my stomach, and I couldn’t suppress a smile.
We may be in a foreign country, but I’d never felt more at home.
CHAPTER 25
BROOKLYN
“I can’t believe you and Vincent kissed last night and you’re only telling me now. It’s been almost twenty-four hours!” Carina crossed her arms. “That has to be a violation of girl code.”
