The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient #2)(47)

Kh?i ran a hand through his hair. “Hi, Mom, Dì Anh, Dì Mai, Dì Tuy?t.” Averting his eyes, he sucked his swollen bottom lip into his mouth. Oh sky, her lipstick was all over him.

“Anh Kh?i, let me—I …” She lifted a hand toward his face. When she hesitated to touch him, he brought her hand to his jaw.

“What is it?” he asked.

“My lipstick.” She brushed her thumb over a smear at the corner of his reddened mouth, but it wouldn’t come off. “Oh no, Kh?i.”

Instead of getting upset like she thought he would, he smiled, flashing those dimples at her, and warmth flooded her heart.

He didn’t mind getting caught kissing her.

“Young ones, ha?” one of his aunts commented, and the others tittered into their hands like schoolgirls.

“These two kids.” C? Nga tried to sound stern, but she couldn’t keep a smile off her face. “Go home already. People will see you.” She dug through her granddaddy-sized purse until she came up with a tissue and handed it to Esme. Then she dragged the aunts off.

As soon as the doors swayed shut, Esme lifted the tissue toward Kh?i’s mouth, but he dodged it and kissed her again, a slow, thorough press of lips to lips. The tissue bunched up in her hand, forgotten, as he threaded his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back so he could kiss her deeper.

A throat cleared.

But this time, when Esme tried to wrench herself away, Kh?i’s arms wrapped around her and held her close. She looked over her shoulder and found Quan watching them with his arms crossed and a big grin on his face.

“The older folks are starting to leave,” Quan said. “You guys might wanna … take this somewhere else. You know, so you don’t give them heart attacks.”

Kh?i looked from his brother to Esme and loosened his hold on her somewhat. “Do you want to go with me … or stay?”

“I want to be with you,” she whispered.

That beautiful smile spread over his face again. “Let’s go, then.”

They separated, and Esme tucked the hair behind her ear, not sure how to act around Quan now. But he didn’t seem angry or insulted. If anything, he seemed pleased. Had he orchestrated this somehow?

Quan gave Kh?i one of those American handshake–one-armed-hug–back-slap things. “Call me if you need anything. Have a good night, you two.”

He winked at Esme and climbed back up the stairs, and she waved at him awkwardly. Kh?i opened the hand his brother had gripped earlier, and a shiny foil lay in his palm.

Heat exploded in Esme’s cheeks, but she couldn’t help grinning. Quan was the best brother ever.

Kh?i shifted the foil so he held it between his index and middle fingers and considered her with a steady gaze. “Will I have the chance to use this tonight?”

She bit her lip as breathless anticipation bubbled through her veins. After picking up the book he’d dropped on the ground earlier, she glanced at him over her shoulder and said, “I hope so.”





CHAPTER SIXTEEN



Khai drove home in a state of madness. His heartbeat was so out of control it was a wonder he didn’t get into ten car accidents. The condom in his pocket burned against his thigh.

He was going to have sex with Esme.

Sex.

With Esme.

Even in the midst of this fever, he recognized the fact that he shouldn’t do it. He should stay away from her. Girl loves boy loves girl. What if she fell in love with him? He couldn’t—

No, he told himself firmly. He could. She’d clearly stated she didn’t expect anything, and he trusted her to know her own mind. As for himself and his fear of addiction, he’d manage. He’d gone too far to stop now. He wanted this too much. Besides, grown people did this all the time. His brother did this all the time, as evidenced by his reliable supply of prophylactics.

After Khai parked outside his place, they walked to the front door together. They’d done this countless times, but everything felt different tonight, surreal somehow. The air smelled sweeter even though the night-blooming jasmine had always grown here. How come he’d never heard the chirping of the crickets like this or noticed the stars as they blinked through the tree canopy?

As he unlocked the door, Esme hugged his paperback book to her chest, watching him from under her lashes. She wet her lips, and the desire to kiss her hit so hard his stomach muscles flexed. He tried to regulate his breathing, tried to calm the rush of his blood, tried to restore his usual functional state, but then he remembered he was allowed to kiss her.

Anytime. He. Wanted.

He pinned her to the door and claimed her lips, groaning as she softened and returned his kiss. He always expected her to turn him away, but she never did. It was a heady thing, her acceptance. What else would she let him do?

With one last parting kiss on her mouth, he trailed his lips down her neck. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d left a mark there. Deep caveman satisfaction unfurled inside of him, and he didn’t question it. He kissed the spot in greeting. When she tipped her head to the side, offering herself to him silently, he gave in to instincts he didn’t understand and scraped his teeth across her sensitive skin. Her breath broke, and he saw the goose bumps stand up on her arm. He’d done that.

So soft, so responsive to him, just for him. For now.