“Why didn’t you kiss me back yesterday, in the field?” I asked.
His eyes drifted down to my lips and they burned. Actually burned. This was not fictitious. This happened in real life. People’s lips could feel like they were actually on fire.
“It didn’t feel right.” His voice was husky and I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. “I mean, it did feel right. But it wasn’t the right time.”
“And now?” I asked, equally husky.
“Well, you’re no longer my patient.” He leaned closer to me. “And you have all your memories back.”
“Yes, I do,” I whispered. This leaning was stealing the volume straight out of my voice.
But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. My burning lips parted, my eyes fixed themselves on his mouth and the space between us quickly disappeared as our bodies got closer and closer, until the last tiny bit of space vanished and his lips came down on mine. They were warm, that was the first thing I noticed. They were soft, softer than I could ever have imagined. He was so masculine, but yet he had these lips that felt like wispy cotton candy against mine.
I’d never kissed a man before—well, I had, but not in any meaningful way—and this felt so full of meaning that I was bursting. I panicked for a second, unsure of what to do with my lips and my tongue and hands, but when Noah put his hands on the sides of my face, and whispered against my lips that he’d wanted to do this so badly, something instinctive kicked in. Something that I don’t think can ever be taught. Something that just moves and flows out of you, from this place that comes alive when someone like Noah looks at you like that and kisses you like this.
Soft. Slow. As if he was easing me into it, as if we were both easing into it. As if this was just the appetizer and there was so much more to come. And there was. I had read about this kind of kiss. The kind that is deep and wanton and hungry and filled with a sense of urgency and lust. Hands traveling, tongues meeting and heat burning. But until now, I never knew what it really felt like, that is until Noah pushed my body back against the door and pushed his way deeper into my mouth.
I heard myself moaning. My hands reached round to the back of his head, my fingers found their way into his hair, where they tangled and tightened and pulled him closer. His hands also found things to tangle into and pull at, like my waist, which he was now gripping as he pushed me even further into the door with the weight of his body, as his lips crushed mine in a way that was both painful and pleasurable. I couldn’t get enough. All those years of reading the same book over and over again and never thinking I would ever have this, never having the courage to try and have this, and I was having it. Damn, I was having it! And as if someone had opened something that couldn’t be closed again, a frenzy was building up inside me that was making me feel quite wild and dizzy as my hands left his hair and began tugging on his shirt. I dug my fingers into his hard back the second it was exposed. He let out a moan, which only caused this feeling inside me to build even more, as I slipped my finger through the belt loop on his pants and pulled him closer to me.
But a loud knock on the window made us both jump. Noah scrambled off me and back into his seat and I went about straightening myself. We both looked up at the source of the noise.
“Shit!” Noah whispered.
“Oh crap!” I echoed his sentiments as the man in the police uniform leaned down and looked at us. He pointed to the window, and Noah opened it.
“Hello.” The policeman looked from me, to Noah and back again.
“Uh . . . Officer. Hi!” Noah sounded sheepish.
“Hey.” I lifted my hand and gave him a half-hearted wave. He did not look impressed.
The policeman pointed to the bus behind us and we both turned. A group of schoolkids were laughing and pointing at the car and two teachers looked like they were trying to hurry them