Chapter Twelve #3
When the next jack comes up, we slap the pile at the same time. Neither of our hands landed on top of the other, they are both perfectly side-by-side, each taking up one half of the pile.
“It’s mine!” she squeals.
“The hell it is. My hand is covering more of the jack than yours.”
“No way, buddy. Your hand is larger than my hand. If you go by percentages, I have more of my hand on the card than you do. See how your pinky finger is off the card?”
“Seriously?” I laugh. “You have to be kidding.”
She stands, keeping her hand firmly on the pile while leaning over the table to put more weight on it. “I’m not giving in.”
I mimic her movement, standing and leaning in, which puts us almost face-to-face. Or more accurately cheek-to-cheek.
“Maybe you should Google the rules of slapjack,” I say.
“Maybe you should.”
“You’re just trying to get me to lift my hand.”
She giggles. “Like you aren’t trying to do the same thing.”
We both turn our heads slightly, resulting in our faces being mere inches apart.
We’re in an epic staredown. When both of us start cracking up, I quickly realize, however, that being this close to her is definitely not a laughing matter, so I stop and gaze into her eyes.
She quiets shortly after, blushing as her eyes drop to my mouth. Then she licks her lips.
Jesus, I’m going to kiss her. I fucking have to kiss her.
I lean in and brush my lips against hers, almost startled that she doesn’t pull away.
The first touch of her lips against mine sends ripples through my chest, nearly unraveling me.
I lift my hand from the table and move it to the soft, supple skin beneath her hair on the back of her neck.
“You win,” I say, right as my entire mouth devours hers.
She kisses me back, and I’m overwhelmed by how electric yet natural it feels. Our mouths merge together perfectly. Our gentle whisper-kisses quickly turn into more when her lips part and our tongues find each other’s.
I’ve kissed my share of women, but none of those were ever an immersive, full-body experience like this one. This kiss is warm. Grounding. As if it was somehow inevitable.
Moving my hands around her waist, up her back, then weaving them up into her hair, I chronicle the details of the kiss. The smell of her shampoo. The taste of her tongue. The softness of her skin. Even the way she tilts her head.
I feel completely in sync with Kenna, captivated by this profound, unforgettable, intimate moment that will undoubtedly leave me wanting more.
As if she can read my mind, her hands begin to wander. She moves them from my neck to my sides, gripping my shirt in her fists and yanking me even more tightly against her. She’s kissing me like she has something to prove. To me? To herself?
She sighs into my mouth when I turn and press her against the counter. Those sighs turn into groans that remain muffled between us, and I grow completely hard, my cock begging for more.
I’m not na?ve. She’s here temporarily. I’m not even sure if it’s me or her who’s kissing the other like we may never get another chance. Maybe it’s both of us. And it’s not lost on me that this might not only be our first kiss, but our last.
“Mommy, Mommy! I won!”
A bucket of ice water dumped over both of us couldn’t have pulled us back to reality faster than those words in that little voice.
We part and stagger away from each other before Amelia appears.
It’s a good thing she’s four, because an older child might have deduced what just happened in here.
I mean, Kenna’s lips are full, I have a raging boner, we’re both breathing a little too fast, and we must look like we just got caught with our hands in the cookie jar.
Part of me wants to be frustrated at the interruption.
Then I glance at the wine glasses on the table and am reminded how much Kenna has consumed.
Is that why she did it? Her defenses were down?
Or has she wanted it as badly as I have and the liquor gave her courage?
Either way, I’m glad it didn’t go any further.
The last thing I need is to take advantage of her and have her wake up hating me. Or herself.
Kenna wipes her lips, her eyes conveying that she might actually be a little disappointed by the interruption.
I’ll take that as a good sign.
“That’s great, baby,” Kenna says to her daughter. “Time for bed now.”
Christian is still in the other room cleaning up the game. Ordinarily, Kenna would have insisted Amelia help. Not this time. This time, she takes Amelia’s hand and beelines straight for the basement.
Not a good sign.
Is she regretting what we did?
Or is she as overwhelmed by the kiss as I am and she just… needs a minute?
I think I get my answer when she turns back to me at the door.
“Carter?”
“Yeah?”
“Who won?”
I look at the cards, then back to her—my smile full and broad. “I promise you, I was the winner here.”
Our eyes connect for one more moment. A moment full of powerful emotions. And then she disappears behind the basement door.
I sit heavily on a kitchen chair and scrub my hands over my face. “Fuck me,” I mumble, knowing I just fell for this woman. And I fell hard.