Page 62 of Chess Not Checkers
My heart jumps. “Weeks?”
He gives me a playful grin. “While you were thinking of throwing the chessboard at me, I was thinking of pushing it aside so I could kiss you.”
I frame his face with my hands, then kiss him again, soft and full. “Maybe I wanted to do both,” I whisper against his mouth when I pull back.
He presses an achingly soft kiss to my bottom lip. “I wouldn’t have minded, so long as I got to kiss you in the end.”
I go to kiss him again, but he stops me. I pull back to look at him.
“Hold on,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. The pad of his thumb grazes my cheek. He stares into my eyes, a hint of a smile toying at the edges of his mouth, his dimple playing peekaboo. Anticipation stirs up inside me like it does when I’m about to step out to perform, only more intense.
“What are we waiting for?” I ask once I feel as though I can’t possibly wait any longer.
He chuckles. “Impatient, are we?”
“You don’t just kiss a woman and then stop,” I say, exasperated.
“I’m holding out for the perfect moment to begin again.” His smile is boyish and playful, those dimples of his on full display now.
“Which is?”
He brushes his nose against mine. His hands slide up and down my spine. My abdomen tightens.
“I’m finding it,” he rasps.
He drinks me in with his impossibly blue eyes. I don’t know that anyone has ever looked at me like this.What will he find if he looks for too long?Nervousness springs up within me.
“What are the qualifications for this so-called moment?” I begin to ramble, unable to be comfortable beneath the weight of his gaze. “Is the lighting not right? Should we move over?”
He brushes his lips against mine, silencing me. “Would you hush and let me have a moment to adore you?”
Oh.
I swallow, unsure of what to say to that. “Okay,” I whisper, earning another sweet, affectionate smile.
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. My eyes fall shut and he kisses each one, gentle as the caress of a flower petal. He moves on to brush his lips against my cheekbones. I giggle when he kisses the tip of my nose. My nerves start to dissipate again. He smiles against my lips.
“I love your laugh,” he murmurs, not giving me time to process the wordlovebefore kissing me again.
He holds me close and kisses me languidly, savoring me like the last bite of a decadent tiramisu. One of his hands slides up to softly massage the back of my neck, drawing a soft sound from the back of my throat. His fingers tangle in the hair there and—a knock shatters our sugar-sweet dream.
I pull back, breathless.
“Owen took his keys, so it must be someone else,” Shepherd says. There’s a hint of anxiety in his tone that makes me frown.
“I can wait here while you see who it is,” I suggest. Hopefully he doesn’t think I’ll be upset if he goes to check. I’m disappointed that we were interrupted, but that’s all.
I press a kiss to his lips for good measure. “I’ll be right here to pick up where we left off.”
His smile is uncharacteristically nervous.
“Could you actually—uh—wait in my room?” My eyes widen at his words. “Not like that!” he quickly corrects as he sets me on the cushion beside him. “I’ll explain in a second, but I promise, I don’t want that—I mean I do, but—”
I press a hand over his mouth. “Please stop talking.”
He nods. I drop my hand.
“I will wait in your room, I guess,” I say, trying to be trusting though I’m confused.
