Loving the Secret Billionaire (Love at Last #1)(12)

I imagined hesitation. Shyness, maybe. But whatever I’d thought I’d get from him was all wrong. My eyes were closed when he reached out and cradled my head with one big, rough hand. It was a firm touch, confident.

I turned and, before considering what I meant to do, I kissed the inner curve of his palm.

“This is weird,” he said. “Isn’t it?”

I puffed out a half laugh against his skin. “Yeah.”

“Has this ever happened to you before?”

“You mean the part where I knock on a stranger’s door and suddenly I’m about to kiss him?” The words puffed into the cradle of his callused hand. “No. What about you?”

“Can’t say that it has.” His other hand came to frame my face. “Is this okay?”

“It’s good.”

“Will you…will you tell me if I’m doing it wrong?” he asked.

My eyes popped open and everything inside me stilled.

Wait, what?

I must not have heard right. Or misunderstood.

He couldn’t possibly mean—

Zach sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that, should I?”

“Um, what?” Maybe if I acted like I didn’t follow and we didn’t delve too deep, we could pretend he’d never said anything.

“Told you. At this point. That I haven’t done this…”

“You didn’t tell me anything.”

“I sort of did.” He pulled back.

And now, he was going to force me to acknowledge it. We maybe could have ignored it, before, acted like he was just checking in, making sure I was happy, but bringing it out into the light put it irrevocably there.

I gave up. “You’ve never done this before.”

“No.”

“So, you mean, um, kissing.” I was breathing hard now, full of nerves. “Or other things?”

“All of it.”

“Are you sure?” The words came out a little high and whiny. Because you’ve really got moves for a newbie.

“I’m sure.” His smile reemerged, hesitant.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Oh.” Young. I’d never dated anyone younger than me. Wait, did this count as a date? What was I even doing here?

He must have gone on one date in his life? Or kissed some girl behind the dumpster after class? Then again, he’d been home-schooled, so not too many opportunities there.

“You want to do this with me?”

“Only if it’s what you want.”

Was it? Was I the right person to be this guy’s first kiss? I guessed it was too late now. If anything else were to happen between us—

No. One thing at a time. Kissing had almost happened, which was already a huge step for me. I couldn’t imagine what this must be like for him.

“Why me?” I asked, wondering for all the world what he saw, or, rather, didn’t see in me.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it, but there’s something, right? I mean, I’m not saying I haven’t been attracted to people before. I have. I just haven’t followed through on it.”

“But now you want to?”

“Do you let every man you’re attracted to kiss you?”

“No,” I conceded after a moment.

“Why would you have let me do it?”

He was talking about it in the past now, like the opportunity was gone and I almost couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying because I didn’t want to not do it. Every nerve ending in my body was screaming at him to kiss me.

“What is it about me, or this, or us that made you decide you’d be okay with it after so little time? I can’t be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.” That was debatable, but I let it pass. “But there’s another thing here, right? Chemistry or whatever. And I can’t—”

I wanted to hear the rest. I did, but I also wanted to make sure I got that kiss—and not just a hand kiss. He called it chemistry, but it felt like magic, and I wasn’t sure I’d get another chance. I leaned in and stopped him with my mouth.

His lips were open when I got there, which made everything immediately close and intimate. I swiped my mouth across his, and he stilled. I felt him wait and closed my eyes. Another swipe caused his breath to catch, which I loved. That tiny jolt of power was addictive. I wanted it again.

When I pursed for a real kiss, he was ready, waiting, still, but breathing hard. Oh God, he was smelling me, I thought. I did the same, breathed him in. His man smell, that little touch of beer, something like soap behind it. I inhaled again and let out a needy little noise, because he was right. Only pure chemistry could smell this good.

The biggest surprise might have been how good he was at this. How did he know that I’d like that little nibble of my lip or how right it felt when he slipped one of his hands into my hair to hold me still for his possession? His nose caressed the side of mine up and then down the other way before his mouth met mine in what was the most perfect, proper kiss I’d ever had.

Lips melding so smoothly, it felt rehearsed, breaths in sync, tongues—God, his tongue was silk against mine. The contrast to the hard shoulders beneath my hands made me crazy.

I didn’t remember moving or putting my hands there. I didn’t know how we’d scooted close in our chairs, but suddenly, it wasn’t close enough—his “Come here” let me know that—so I stood, never releasing his shoulders or his mouth, and slid right onto his lap. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.