Page 20 of Imperfect Saint
Millie tilted her face up for him, giving him permission, and that was all he needed. He took her mouth again. It was more than just a brush of lips against lips this time. He kissed her for real, the way a man kissed a woman that he’d wanted for far too long. He kissed her hard and without restraint.
He coaxed her mouth into sliding against his. He could taste hints of the whiskey she’d been drinking on her lips and he swore he was drunk on her. Millie wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him pull her even closer, so close it felt as though he could weld them together. There was no distance between them now. The only thing keeping them apart was their clothing and even that was too much when he had the sweet taste of her in his mouth and the feel of her soft skin under his hands.
Finally. Finally he knew what she tasted like. Finally he knew what she felt like in his arms. Perfection. She’d been made for him.
He traced her bottom lip with his tongue and she opened for him, sliding her own alongside his. She mewled like a contented kitty when he wrapped one hand in her hair, holding her head steady as he plundered her mouth again and again, unable to break away even for air. He wanted to imprint himself onto her soul, just as she’d done to him, but somewhere, outside the fog of his desire, his need to strip her bare and join their bodies, to claim her as his own, some part of his brain clicked back to reality and he remembered where they were.
Not alone. Not in their bedroom. Not in private where they could explore this incredible, intense, connection for as long and as thoroughly as they wanted.
They were still standing under the old oak trees, lit with twinkling lights. The sound of voices murmuring low broke through the steady thump of the blood racing through his ears. The band was still playing though nobody else had joined them in dancing. He could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on them and he hated the feeling, hated the way Millie stiffened suddenly, as if she too had just returned to reality and realized they weren’t in their own little world. She started to pull away from him but he held tight, tucking her back against his chest and holding her there as he lowered his lips to her ear.
“Shh, it’s okay.”
“Hunter…” She shivered slightly when she said his name and he smoothed a hand up and down her back, “Wh-why?”
“Why what, baby?”
“Why did you kiss me like that? Why here? Why now?”
“You know why.” He felt his jaw clench when she pulled back enough to look at him and gave a small shake of her head.
She looked absolutely breakable in that moment. Her hair messed from where he’d run his fingers through it. Her lipstick slightly askew. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes glassy behind the glasses that set crooked on her face now. She looked like if he said the wrong thing that she really might crack open and break so despite his urge to pull her close and kiss her again, to remind her that to him this wasn’t a lie or an act, to tell her that he’d kissed her because he’d wanted it and he thought she wanted it too, he simply pulled her back into his chest and sighed.
“Do you want the truth or the easy answer, Mills?”
Her grasp on him tightened fractionally, just enough to reassure him, but then she whispered the words he’d feared she would say, “Maybe for now, the easy answer?”
It hurt. He couldn’t deny that. But he tried to keep the reaction from showing on his face or in his body language.
They’d just shared something special. She couldn’t pretend they hadn’t, not even if she wanted to. She couldn’t shut him out anymore. Not after kissing him like that. Not when he now knew that her body yearned for him the way his yearned for her. One taste, one kiss, was never going to be enough, not for either of them, but he’d already told himself that he had all weekend to convince her, so he forced the pain her words caused down deep inside him.
She wasn’t ready to hear the truth. Not yet. At least not all of it. And until she was, he had to play along or risk her pushing him away for good.
Hunter sighed against her hair and gave her the easy answer she wanted, “Your ex wasn’t buying us as a couple. Answering all the questions in the world wouldn’t have convinced him you’d moved on. He doesn’t want to believe that this, us, is real. Now he has to.”
Millie stiffened at the mention of her ex and he felt her head turn slightly, seeking Joshua out amongst the faces at the tables. That hurt too but Hunter held her in his arms. He knew what she was seeing. The same thing he was. Joshua Bell had shoved up out of his chair and was snarling something at his date. He grabbed the girl by the arm and hauled her out of her seat, all but dragging her with him as he stormed back towards the house. Millie made a sound, something he didn’t understand, but she buried her head against his chest again and he simply held onto her, hoping she would stay with him.
“Thank you.” Millie finally spoke, and his heart ached for her all over again.
“No problem.” He lied, “It’s what I’m here for, right?”
Millie didn’t respond but he hadn’t expected her to. Even still, she didn’t push him away. She stayed right there, in his arms, letting him hold her, and he figured that spoke volumes above what her words could in that moment. She wasn’t pushing him away and that was the only sliver of hope he needed for the time being.
7
Millie felt stupid. Stupid and naïve and nervous. She sat on the edge of the bed, her bed in her childhood bedroom, and chewed on the inside of her cheek until it ached.
One bed. She and Hunter were sharing a room. She’d let everyone believe they were a couple. She was a grown woman and even if her father didn’t like it, he wouldn’t make Hunter stay in a separate room. She and Hunter were sharing more than a room though, they would also be sharing this bed.
Why hadn’t she thought about that before? Why hadn’t she already worried it over a million times and come up with a solution? Why hadn’t it even crossed her mind?
Even when they’d been up here in her room earlier, before dinner, she hadn’t given it so much as a second thought. She’d had other things to worry about then. But now, back in her room, their room, Hunter in the bathroom changing into pajamas and her, already wearing the simple pink and white polka dot boxer shorts and tank top that she’d packed for herself, the one bed seemed to loom large and inviting and terrifying now.
It was because Hunter had kissed her. She knew that. He’d changed everything when he’d taken her in his arms and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. He’d crossed the imaginary line she’d drawn in the sand the first time she met him and now she knew there was no going back.
He’d kissed her and she’d kissed him and her body ached for him now in ways that she hadn’t even known were possible.
They were about to go to bed together. Sleep together. Side by side, beneath the blankets, together in the dark, and she couldn’t stop her whirling mind from questioning everything now.
