Chapter 18
I lean in.
His lips part around mine, and, gosh, they’re just as soft as I imagined they would be, smooth relief within the light scratch of his beard. Easy to sink into.
It’s a slow, gentle fall, not at all what I was expecting from him, but all the more consuming.
Everything gets magnified—the press of his mouth, firm and hot; his breath against my cheek; the swipe of his tongue on my top lip, then bottom; the promise of something rougher with the graze of his teeth.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt.
Tingles spread through to my hands and toes, racing like my pulse, as though I were diving headfirst into the bottle we were drinking from.
No one has kissed me like this.
Never.
Lucky pulls away. “Not like this,” he says and stands up.
Everything hot goes cold inside me. But I thought …
I sigh and follow Lucky to the kitchen. It doesn’t matter what I thought because he pulled away, and that’s clear enough for me.
I don’t meet his gaze as he hands me a glass of water.
“Are you hungry? I’ll make something.”
I nod, feeling embarrassment fill up the spaces left empty by his touch.
He finds his way around easily, pulling together a meal more naturally than I ever have.
I love food, but I think I’m allergic to cooking.
Lucky definitely doesn’t have that issue.
He doesn’t even comment on the lack of ingredients, humming while he works, deft hands making us both a grilled cheese while he wears a smile that only makes it harder to not storm over there and kiss him again.
Who knew cooking could be so sexy?
“You should move in with me,” Lucky says, stealing my attention away from how good his ass looks in those jeans.
I’m staring, but I can’t stop.
“What?” I think my brain is still scrambled from that kiss.
“Move in with me.”
Yes. Definitely scrambled.
“It’s not quantum physics, Mia.” Lucky slides a plate over. It smells amazing. “You need a place to stay, and I have a spare room.”
This is ridiculous—or it should be. I’m actually considering moving in with a man I just met. He could be anyone. He could be the first hitmaker turned serial killer, luring me in with smiles and food, like a hot villain from a fairy tale.
What the hell did they put in that champagne?
I want to say yes. Is that silly?
What would my parents think? Actually, Ma would love him, all that spirit and sass.
Lucky watches me, one hip cocked against the counter, looking like a temptation.
I trust my instincts, and they’re telling me to say yes, but I’m torn.
* * *
Make Your Choice:
let’s do it; move in with Lucky (go to 34)
shouldn’t you think about this? (go to 31)
go back (go to 12)