Broken Rules

Chapter Twenty One

When I stepped into Hansen Coffee, my sole intention was to ensure that things with Wells didn't progress beyond what had happened at the rodeo. I stood outside, giving myself a pep talk, telling myself that I could go in and leave without giving in to the urge to kiss Wells. But, here I am again, my self-control evaporated entirely.

Could I, Juniper Jenkins, really break the rules just this once and let something happen between us? Can I do something casual, just this one time? Have a hookup, a rebound, with my nemesis, and then go back to hating and irritating each other in passing?

I can't seem to think clearly enough to figure it out, because there's so much of him so close to me.

"What about this?" he whispers, planting a tender kiss on my temple, causing my eyes to flutter shut. His lips graze over each one, leaving a kiss, before finally reaching the corner of my mouth.

"Hmm." I hum with delight.

He feathers another two kisses, one over the curve of my jaw, the other on my cheekbone. Each kiss propelling me higher and higher until I'm entirely consumed by an overwhelming desire. I want him. I crave him. I'm not sure there's been a single instance where I haven't wanted him since that moment in the bookstore.

I've bottled up so much of it over the past month that now it feels like I'm on the verge of bursting at the seams.

"This?" he murmurs, hovering just above my lips before planting the softest, lightest, sweetest peck on them. Everything inside of me lights up and slowly melts, like warm honey spilling over into every crevasse.

He withdraws, but only slightly, hovering over my lips again. He lingers there without a word, as if silently urging me to confess. Yes, I want you.

He knew it at the rodeo, and he knows it now. There's no need for me to say it out loud.

"Is this okay?" he whispers again.

"I think you already know," I murmur, barely audible.

"I want to make sure?" His voice is low and velvety. "What do you want, Juniper? Tell me."

This would be my moment to say no, to leave, to walk away and forget about all of this. But, my feet refuse to move, my hands remain anchored on his arms, and my body is beginning to melt into his.

I take a deep breath and then whisper, "You."

He bridges the distance between us and I release a sigh of relief as his lips meet mine. I feel the subtle curve of his smile against my mouth. His kiss is tender, his hand gliding to grip the back of my neck, his thumb applying gentle pressure to my throat, coaxing me closer.

His tongue brushes against my lip, and I willingly part for him as his mouth sweeps upward into mine, deepening our kiss.

I've never been kissed like this one before. Kissed like I'm being savored. Like I'm the last blueberry scone on the plate. It's different from our other two —slow, unhurried, and deliciously taunting.