her shiver. So, his Red liked it when he gripped her hips. Not that he didn’t like it. Hell, just putting his hands on her made his cock hard. Still, it was another piece of the Kate puzzle and as thus, he filed it away.
Along with the image of gripping those hips and thrusting deep.
“What, Red?” he asked again, forcing himself to focus.
“I’m torn between the lie and wanting what’s between us to be real!”
It was a burst of noise, of words, and combined with her yanking out of his hold, of moving away from him, it took Jaime a second to process.
By the time he did, she was at the counter, shoving another pod into the Keurig.
“I—” Slam. The top went down. “Kate—” She kept her back to him and hit the button, the coffee popping and hissing. “I’m—” Scrape. The plate slid back onto the counter.
And that was about all of the interruptions he could handle.
He closed the distance between them, coming close just as she spun around, just as she began to speak. “I—”
He sealed his mouth over hers.
Stiff. She was stiff against him for a single heartbeat. Then she melted, hands coming around his neck, and kissed him back, her tongue a scalding brand, her luscious curves pressed close. He’d been dipped into a vat of molten steel, his body burning up from the inside out, boiling with need, his nerves firing, his cock hard and aching.
She pulled back, chest heaving.
“I want us to be real,” she said. “I want it so fucking bad.” Her fingers tightened. “I want it because you’re nice and funny and kind and gorgeous. I want it because you seem to like me. I want it because you’re sexy and kiss me like you think I’m the same.” Her eyes drifted away. “But at the same time, I know I can’t want it because it won’t last.”
Desire blazing through his mind, eliminating his brain cells, but he still managed to ask, “Why, honey? Why do you think we won’t work out?”
She pulled back, and though it was difficult, Jaime made his hands release her.
A stumbling step away, a shaking hand pushing her hair off her face. But then her gaze was back on his, and the bleakness in it stole his breath. Because she’d already written their ending, even as they’d just barely begun.
Her words confirmed the sentiment.
“Because anytime someone says they want me, they never mean it.”
That was a fucking punch to the gut.
“Red,” he murmured.
Her eyes closed and he watched her shoulders lift and fall on a long, slow exhale. Then she spoke, and it was like her tone had taken a one-eighty. “Anyway,” she chirped. “That’s just reality in dating in this world of Tinder and technology. Everyone has a short attention span and is always thinking of the next great thing.” A shrug, her hair whipping as she spun back to the coffee maker. “How do you take your coffee?” She giggled, and it wasn’t gentle or sweet or anything like her normal husky laugh. The rough sound cut through him like a dull blade. “I’m guessing black because I’ve seen the hair on your chest in your pictures.”
Since she was doing a damned good job at having her conversation by herself, Jaime just leaned against the island counter and crossed his arms.
Then waited.
“Or maybe one sugar.” Another false giggle. “Because you’re so sweet.” She nudged the plate holding the pastries. “Or at least have a sweet tooth based on the sheer volume of sugar on this plate.”
Kate picked up the plate, brought it to the island. She didn’t look at him as she set it on the island, nor before she turned and went back for the mugs.
Nor when she then set those on the counter.
“Do you want the turnover or the scone?” she asked. “Because this pumpkin muffin is mi . . . ne?”
Her statement ended on a halting question.
No doubt because her eyes finally made it to his.
“Who hurt you?”
“Wh-what?”
“Who hurt you?” he repeated. “You keep talking about our end before we’ve even begun. I’ve told you, I’m not interested in ending anything, that you already mean something to me”—he uncrossed his arms, ran his knuckles over her cheek—“I want to prove that to you, but I won’t be able to do it if you keep pushing me away before I can.”
“Jaime,” she breathed.
“I know,” he said and took her hands in his, pressed them to his chest. “I know we’re new. I know