Chapter Twenty-Seven
Um… haha. Well. Uh. Can we pretend this didn’t happen?
Ruby
By the time Monday morning comes, my anger has abated slightly. Which means we make it all the way to Whirlwind Branding’s elevator before I turn on a still-too-touchy-for-my-comfort Will.
“So,” I start, ensuring my grip on the safety rail is steady as I spin around to face Will, who stands close enough for his hand to overlap mine on the rail. “Heard anything you weren’t supposed to lately?” I bare my teeth.
He hums, and the heat of him moves in until I can feel my breath hitting the resistance of his chest. The hand on mine slides up, traveling the length of my arm and neck to settle in my hair. It tugs, tilting my head up until he’s satisfied.
I glare. “Are you done?”
“That depends,” he answers. “On a scale of one to ten, how likely are you to hit me if I kiss you right now?”
“Aha!” I declare. “That! You eavesdropping eavesdropper!”
He hums again, not denying it. “And it’s a good thing I did. You seem to be under the misguided belief that I do not spend my days aching to touch you, to kiss you, to show you exactly how much I desire you. I’ve been too cautious. After your conversation with Roman, I’ve decided it’s time I take a more aggressive approach.” His forehead hits mine, and our breaths mingle.
I do not like this one bit.
“You mean a less consenting approach?” I ask, voice venom.
“Are you saying that you wouldn’t smack me with your cane the minute I went too far?” he counters. “You’ve never been shy about it before.”
I hate that he’s right. As much as his touch makes my heart race, makes my stomach take off in a furious flutter of wings, it’s not uncomfortable. It’s not at all like those idiots on sticker day. Will’s touch is familiar, even when he’s doing it in unfamiliar ways. I don’t feel unsafe or violated.
What I do feel is annoyed.
“Plus, after Stickergate, I was under the impression that my touch was different to you,” he continues, hitting way too close to my own thoughts.
My jaw sets. “Just because I’m used to you doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want.”
“Of course it doesn’t,” he agrees. “The fact that you haven’t shoved your cane somewhere I’d rather it not be means I can just do whatever I want. You’ll let me know when to stop.”
“Stop,” I say immediately.
He doesn’t. Surprise, surprise.
“We just agreed you’d tell me to stop with your cane, not your words,” he tsks. “Want to try again, Rubble?”
I do. I really, really do.
So then why isn’t my cane moving?
My brows furrow as I will my hand to move, to smack him the way I have countless times before.
It does nothing.
Will chuckles. “Ah, I guess that means you want this, then?” he asks, tilting his head to land a kiss just to the right of my lips.
I stop breathing. My hand clenches around my cane, but doesn’t move .
Why isn’t it moving?
And why is this elevator so freaking slow ?
“Did you like that, Rubble?” he asks. I barely hear him over the sound of my beating heart. “What about this?” He kisses me again, the corner of his mouth covering the corner of mine.
My cane clatters to the ground as my hand moves to his side, fisting his coat in my grip.
“Will,” I warn on a whisper.
He tsks. “Now that,” he says. “That looks an awful lot like consent to me.”
And then he kisses me. Not my cheek, not the corner of my mouth, but full-on, right on my lips kisses me.
Having clearly lost my mind, I kiss him back.
His lips are soft. Gentle, which surprises me. He teases, kissing me once, twice, three times before pulling back, making me follow.
Having so seriously, genuinely lost my mind, I do.
He groans, fingers scraping my scalp as he drags me closer, and wow. This kiss is not gentle anymore.
This kiss is electric.
My skin tingles, starting at his hand in my hair and traveling down, past the arm he’s wrapped around my waist, all the way until it reaches my toes, curling them.
He nips.
I whimper.
He licks.
I groan.
I let go of the safety rail. What can it do for me now? I’m already in the clouds floating among the lightning. The threat of falling can’t scare me here.
Ding.
I jump at the elevator’s tone, launching myself as far from Will as I can in the small space, frantically grabbing for the handrail as the doors open onto the twentieth floor.
“Well,” Will says. “I’d say that pretty much clears up that.”