“No, sweet. This would be cruel.” I cup her cheeks and drag her to me, meeting her in the middle of the space between us. Then I crush her mouth with mine, sucking at those pouty lips. This is cruelty because I want this woman when I shouldn’t. Her sass. Her attitude. Her trust. I want it.
The second she responds, meeting my lip’s lead with her own, my tongue joins the torture, sweeping into her mouth and tangling with hers. I haven’t kissed someone in seven years—seven long fucking years—and she tastes so good, like freedom, and futures, and faith. This feeling is more than an irritating itch that needs a good scratch. This is Rita. I don’t know what it is about her, but I want her nails to dig in and her heart to open.
Then reality hits me. What am I doing? Just as quickly as I started down the slippery slope of desire, I pull back. Rita follows me, leaning into the space I put between us, chasing that kiss. Her eyes remain closed for a second as her lips seek mine, and I’ve crossed a line again.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Rita.” Her lids flip open, and she stares at me. I should not have kissed her. Every part of my being screams, I should not have kissed her!
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat in a whisper, releasing her face like she’s scorched my skin and turning away from her once again.
“Rough night?” my brother asks. Nolan has no idea. Then again, as I glance over at him in his wheelchair, I imagine he does.
“Fuck, man. I fucked up.” I toss my head back on the couch in the house we share. It’s the same home where we grew up and inherited at our mother’s passing. The small house had a mortgage on it when my father left, and we were still little kids. My mother worked night and day to pay what she could, so we’d have a safe place to live, as she called it. I’d worked construction jobs as young as I could to help out, and we eventually paid it off. She died one night on a snowy mountain road.
“How was your date?” Nolan’s voice matches the wiggle of his brow. My brother is a horny bastard. It’s how he got in trouble when he was sixteen and ended up a father too young. Now, he doesn’t date. Losing sensation in the lower half of his body from a back injury has curtailed his extracurricular activities. Still, he’s a horndog.
“It went to hell.” Louisa deserved an explanation after I chased Rita, but I didn’t tell her that I’d kissed my supervisor, the woman who could make or break my probation assignment. Louisa didn’t know that my employment is actually a restorative program from prison. Instead, I explained that Rita was my boss and I’d forgotten to tell her something at work. The thing I actually had not forgotten, though, was my desire to kiss Rita.
I don’t know why I did it.
“I’m a dumbass,” I say, swiping a hand into my hair and holding it at the top of my head.
“Sounds like a story,” Nolan teases, and I hear his chair shift. When Nolan left the hospital, modifications had to be made to the house, and I wasn’t here to help accommodate his new condition. I was arrested while he was still heavily sedated. Arrangements were made for him as best I could from inside a cage. Thank goodness most of the volunteer firemen he worked with were good men and handy. They pulled together and did what needed to be done to make this house wheelchair accessible.
For some reason, I don’t want to tell Nolan exactly what I did tonight. Instead, I tell him what I didn’t.
“I don’t think I’ll be seeing Louisa again.”
“Why not? She wouldn’t put out on the first date.”
My head snaps up, irritated at the remark, although that’s exactly why I asked her out in the first place. I wanted in her pants without really knowing her.
“No, asshole. She didn’t. But I also didn’t ask her to.”
Nolan shakes his head. “You know that’s a waste of a perfectly good dick.” He nods at my lap, and I instinctively cover myself with a pillow from the couch. Guilt riddles me. Nolan’s condition isn’t my fault. I didn’t do what I’d been accused of doing, so there’s no way I was to blame for