Chapter 3 #3
“Not a chance,” she whispered, her voice softer than she wanted it to be.
His eyes flickered—something sharp, something knowing—but he didn’t argue. His gaze dipped, locking onto her mouth with an intensity that made her skin buzz.
He leaned in close enough that she felt the warmth of him before he even touched her. The space between them felt smaller than it had a second ago. Too small. Her fingers curled against her lap, nails pressing into her palm.
His lips brushed hers, barely there. Too light. It wasn’t even a kiss—just the promise of one. It sent a jolt straight through her, sharp and fast, and before she could stop herself, her eyes drifted closed.
The second she did, he pulled back.
Her eyes snapped open, her chest too tight, her breath too short.
He was already looking at her, his gaze steady but knowing, his head tilted slightly like he’d just figured something out.
“Convinced?” he asked softly, his breath still warm against her cheek.
Her gaze locked on his, lips still tingling in a way that annoyed her more than it should have. She raised a brow, tilting her head with that signature defiance she’d mastered.
“Not really.”
His eyes flickered with something dangerous. His lips tugged into the faintest smirk, sharp at the edges.
“Exactly,” he murmured, his voice smooth, low, and far too calm. “That’s why we need to practice.”
Her heart jumped. Her fingers curled against her thigh, steadying herself. She’d seen this look before. The look people wore before they did something reckless. And he looked reckless.
This time, when he moved, he didn’t hesitate.
He cupped her jaw, his palm warm against her skin, his fingers curling just beneath her ear. His eyes stayed on hers for a heartbeat longer, like he was waiting for her to stop him. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and then he closed the distance between them with the kind of certainty that left no room for doubt. His lips pressed firmly against hers, warm, insistent, and there. No hesitation. No question. Just control.
Her breath hitched, sharp and sudden, her heart pounding in her chest like it had been waiting for this.
Her fingers twitched against her lap, unsure if she should pull him closer or push him away.
But then, his hand slid around to the back of her neck, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin, and all that uncertainty vanished.
Her hands moved on instinct, fingers curling lightly into the front of his shirt. Stupid. Dangerous. Addictive.
The kiss deepened, his lips moving against hers with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
Every shift, every tilt, was slow, deliberate, and maddeningly in control.
His teeth grazed her bottom lip—a light, teasing scrape that pulled a soft, breathy sound from the back of her throat before she could stop it.
Her fingers fisted in his shirt, pulling tighter, closer. Her chest pressed against his as the warmth between them grew hotter, heavier, harder to ignore.
He noticed.
His smirk returned—she felt it against her mouth before she saw it.
His lips curved just slightly, smug and unrepentant, and before she could react, he tilted his head, deepening the kiss until it wasn’t just a kiss anymore—it was all of him.
His teeth caught her bottom lip again, this time with more pressure, and he tugged, slow and deliberate.
Her breath hitched so hard it almost sounded like a moan.
His grip on her neck tightened. Not rough. Not harsh. Just enough to say I felt that.
Her fingers slid up, moving from his chest to his collar, nails pressing lightly against his skin, and this time, she bit back. Her teeth caught his bottom lip just like he’d done to hers.
The quiet, low sound that rumbled in his chest wasn’t quite a growl, but it was close enough to make her heart slam against her ribs.
Her breath came in quick, shallow pulls, her lips buzzing from the pressure, her body far too aware of every inch of him pressed against her. He tasted like coffee—dark, bold, and just a little bitter—but there was something sharper underneath it, something distinctly him.
When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t sudden. It was slow. Purposeful. Like he wanted her to feel the space growing between them.
The taste of coffee lingered on her tongue even after he’d pulled back.
“Convinced?” he asked softly, his voice lower now, rougher, like he’d just been woken up from something too good to let go of.
Her breathing was shallow, her heart still hammering in her chest. She blinked slowly, lips still tingling with the heat of him. Her fingers stayed curled in his shirt, refusing to let go just yet. Her eyes flicked to his mouth—just for a second—then back up to his eyes.
Her heart was steady. Her voice wasn’t.
“Not really.”
His gaze darkened, eyes dropping to her lips like they’d just thrown down a bet he intended to win.
“Good,” he muttered, his thumb brushing the side of her jaw one last time before his hand fell away, slow and deliberate. “We’ve got time.”