Page 47 of Married As Puck
“There’s music.” He stands and holds out his hand.
I look around awkwardly at the other guests and what they might think of me.
“Come on, Brie. Let loose.”
I blush because now I’m thinking about the kiss.
I let him pull me up and on cue, soft jazz music fills the air. He definitely arranged this. His hand finds my waist, his other cradles mine. Suddenly the restaurant fades into the background as we sway from side to side.
The air feels heavier as we are lost in each other’s gazes. His eyes trace my features like he’s memorizing every detail. “Have I told you before that I love your hair?”
My heart skips a beat, both at the compliment and how close he is. I open my mouth to respond but I close it back because I’m not sure I can trust my voice not to betray me.
By the time we get home, I’m flooded with a myriad of thoughts that don’t belong in my head. All of them border on the brink of delusion.
I run upstairs, slam my bedroom door shut and lean against it. My heart is racing, and my skin is buzzing where his hands touched.
What the hell?
I grab my phone and call Julia. It goes straight to voicemail. I try again but nothing.
I start pacing the room.
A knock at the door makes me freeze.
“Brie.”
I swallow hard, mentally debating if I should open the door or pretend to be asleep. My body betrays me, and I open the door.
He’s standing there, hair ruffled from the number of times he has raked his fingers through, holding a tray that contains two glasses of juice and a plate of cookies.
“I figured you should have this since we skipped dessert,” he says, almost forced.
I smile and take it from him. “That’s thoughtful. Thank you.”
“Can we talk? I just need company. You disappeared so fast after we got home.”
I watch him carefully. This doesn’t sound like Cameron Gray. Was there something in his wine?
“Sure,” I whisper, stepping aside.
We sit on the edge of my bed, sharing cookies and juice. At first we don’t speak, merely share awkward glances, then I clear mythroat and bring up random college dorm stories I’ve heard and we talk at length about that. Then the words run out and silence takes its place.
He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ears and inches closer. My heart screams, telling me to get up and leave but for some reason, I’m frozen in place.
“Brie.” His voice becomes deep, making me swallow nervously. “Can I kiss you?”
I nod absentmindedly.
He smiles, and just the small gesture that I could do that to him melts me completely.
His lips touch mine, igniting a fire that has been burning under my skin since the last intense make out session.
His hand cups my face, then my waist, pulling me against him. I melt, every ounce of resistance gone. The kiss deepens, becoming more messy as his tongue goes deeper into mine until the only thing that fills my nostrils is the scent of him.
When he lays me back against the pillows, my body arches to meet him instinctively. His hands roam slowly at first, then bolder, sliding under my blouse. I feel warmth course through my veins as his hands make contact with my skin. I sigh in bliss as he nuzzles in my neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses.
I gasp when I feel his tongue licking my throat. His hands cup my breasts, and he sucks on one nipple, giving equal attention to the other with his hands.
