Slap & Kiss
Nora h
Saturday, August 7th
“What the hell is your problem?” I yell toward Bennett as I close the distance to his truck, approaching from the passenger side with his stupid groceries in hand.
I should’ve left the grocery store and not looked back, and if it weren’t for the fit of rage so encompassing I bought his groceries without noticing, I would have.
Anger pours into my veins as I remember how much of an asshole he was to me just fifteen minutes ago, and I push up onto my toes, leaning over the hood.
He has the audacity to groan and look annoyed. With me. “Good grief, you’re like mold, you know that? I can’t seem to get rid of you.”
This guy. This fucking guy.
“God, you are so infuriating!” I slap my palms against the sides of my thighs, the bag of Danimals and eggs slinging wildly. “When I realized I bought your groceries, I stayed in an effort to mend fences. I thought you might need them, but maybe I’ll just egg your truck instead!”
“You do that, and you’re going to find yourself in a whole shitload of trouble, sweetheart.” He rounds the truck and snags the bag from my hands, as if I’d actually follow through with my threat.
I pull the bag back toward me, but he just yanks it right back. And we repeat that circuit a good five times, each back-and-forth only infuriating me further. It’s like we’re in freaking grade school at this point!
I try with all my might to get it from his steady grip, my mind convinced that I’m actually going to egg his truck as soon as I can get the carton out of the bag, but the bastard’s strength is too much for me.
The bag is secure in his hands, but there is nothing secure about the way I’m feeling.
I am so mad, so insanely mad , that before I can even think, my hand is lifting in the air and slapping straight across the side of his face. It’s not enough, though, and I raise my hand again, swinging forcefully until Bennett grabs me by the arm and stops me.
My breathing is ragged and my heart erratic as I try to calm myself down, but Bennett surprises the hell out of me by stepping forward and kissing me.
His mouth pressed hard against mine, he kisses me like we aren’t two people in the middle of burning each other to the ground but the exact opposite—twin flames, melded to one another.
It’s unexpected and hauntingly good, and I’m ashamed to admit, he’s not the only one actively participating. Clearly, I’ve lost my mind.
But fuck. Bennett Bishop tastes like cinnamon and sugar and all of the dirty, naughty things that match the fantasies I’d have about him if I let myself. Our kiss is angry, at first, our lips fighting against each other in hard, passionate movements. But when he slides his tongue into my mouth, it’s with the kind of hot fervor that makes a gasp bubble up from my lungs.
My hands are in his hair and my breasts are pressed to his chest, and I swear on everything, a deep groan escapes his throat and enters my mouth like a whisper.
His lips are silk, and his tongue is an aphrodisiac, and an aching throb between my thighs has me taking notice of how good this feels—how good he feels.
I wish I was a better woman in this situation, but there’s something about this man that makes me lose complete control.
I’ve never slapped anyone in my life, but I slapped him .
It’s like he brings out my rawest emotions. He makes me feel things I’m not sure I’ve ever felt about anyone. Even now, I can’t resist him.
I wish I was smart enough to step away, but there isn’t an ounce of willpower in my body left to stop this.
I don’t know how long the kiss lasts, but the moment he steps back, setting me away, is cataclysmically clear. One second, I’m warm and wanton, and the next, my whole psyche is shattered.
Is he mad I slapped him? Is he aroused like me? Is he both?
My teeth sink into my lips, anguish and anger and violence my only saviors from the feel of his mouth burning on my skin. We’re both breathing heavy, practically panting, and I’m so insanely tempted to kiss him again I make myself sick.
“Get out of here, Norah,” he demands, his voice so rough it borders on cruel.
“Bennett—”
“Leave,” he snaps, finishing me off once and for all. I’m humiliated and freaking terrified of how far I let myself go. My control might as well cease to exist. I grab my grocery bag of milk and hurry down the sidewalk, back across the street toward my sister’s coffeeshop, with my heart in my throat.
My mind churns as quickly as my legs, but neither is effective at getting me away from the reality of what just happened.
Bennett Bishop and I just kissed.
The basket case and the beast…a match all but guaranteed to go down in flames.