Chapter Fourteen Asher #4
She hums, lips still tilted upwards into that perfect smile. ‘I’ve not had any complaints so far.’
‘I don’t doubt that.’
Imani laughs and it feels like something has changed between us. She looks up at me through long lashes, her eyes slightly heavier than before. ‘You’re standing very close.’
I swallow. ‘Too close?’
A beat passes between us. Her lips part, but no sound comes out. Instead, her gaze dips to my mouth and lingers there. She runs her tongue along her bottom lip and shakes her head.
I’m not sure who moves first. Me? Her? Maybe it’s both of us at the same time. All I know is that one minute there’s enough space between us to pretend like this is platonic, like we’re just two good friends standing in her kitchen making tea, and then the next—
My hand skims her waist. She breathes out and leans in closer, her breath feathering against my collarbone. I draw her in, pressing her against me until I can feel every deep, delicate curve as her body melts against mine.
She slides her hands up my chest, fingers fisting in the fabric of my shirt. A quiet, desperate whimper escapes her throat and that’s all the invitation I need.
I cup her jaw and capture her mouth with mine. Her lips part instantly with a soft sigh and the taste of her rushes through me.
I could easily get addicted to this.
Kissing Imani is nothing like I could ever have imagined it would be.
It’s not hesitant or slow or the kind of kiss you have with someone when you’re just testing the waters, trying to see if there’s any semblance of a spark there.
Kissing Imani feels like we’ve been doing this for years.
There’s no awkward fumbling as we try to find our rhythm; we just fall into it like her lips on mine is as natural as breathing.
Her fingers tighten on my shirt, then slide higher, wrapping around my neck and dragging me down to her. A groan rumbles from the depths of my chest, muffled against her mouth. My free hand finds the small of her back, and I press her even closer, erasing any last sliver of space between us.
She tilts her head, deepening the kiss, and I swear the world falls away. We’re not in her kitchen anymore. There are no mugs half forgotten on the counter. We’re not in the middle of a fake feud, we don’t have scheming fathers, and there are no expectations pressing down on us. It’s just her.
Just this.
Just us.
I nip at her bottom lip and she gasps. The sound darts straight through me and ignites every nerve-ending in my body. Her gasp fades to a breathless laugh against my mouth. I kiss her once more, just to feel the shape of her smile against my lips, before I force myself to slow down.
Pulling away from her feels wrong, but I do it anyway though my hand is still pressed against her waist and the small of her back, and her fingers stay curled against my chest like she’s not ready to let go either.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that. A few seconds? A couple of minutes? An eternity? All I know is that we’re still close enough that I can feel her breath on my lips and the steady thrum of her heartbeat against my chest.
Finally, I clear my throat. ‘I—’
‘No apologies,’ Imani says firmly. Her gaze lifts to meet mine. Her eyes are wide and maybe a little dazed, but I don’t see any sign of panic or regret in them. I do see the faintest twinkle and the curve of a smile tugging at her kiss-swollen lips.
I bring a hand up to her face and brush my thumb along her jaw. ‘I wasn’t going to.’
‘Good. Because there’s nothing to apologise for. It was just a kiss.’
‘Just a kiss?’
She nods, all fake-nonchalant, even as her fingers linger a second too long against my chest before she finally pulls away and lets her arms swing down by her side. ‘A very nice kiss,’ she concedes. ‘But still. Just a kiss. We can be grown-ups about this, right?’
I force a smile, even though every part of me wants to argue otherwise. ‘Of course. Grown-ups. Very mature. This was no big deal.’
She swallows and drops her gaze. ‘Exactly. No big deal.’
I take a step back, needing the space before I forget what those words mean and lean in again. ‘And I guess, for the sake of our plan, we probably shouldn’t kiss again, right?’
Her eyes flick back to mine just long enough for me to notice the tiny spark there before the mask goes back up. ‘Right,’ she says, her voice steady. ‘Kissing again would be a terrible decision. Given the circumstances, I mean.’
‘The circumstances,’ I repeat. ‘Exactly.’
A silence stretches between us, thick with everything we’re both trying not to say. Finally, I nod and shove my hands into my pockets like that will stop them from reaching for her again. ‘Glad we’re on the same page, then.’
Imani turns away and starts fussing with the mugs on the counter again, her voice low as she mutters under her breath about putting the kettle on. I nod, but I barely hear her. Because one thought has rooted itself in my head and I can’t shake it.
If I’d known that kiss was going to be our first and last, I would’ve tried to make it last just a little longer.