Romeo and Juliet (Romantic #SPG)

4: The Truth

"Curing me of what?" she asked, her eyes closing as he worked his way down to her jaw.

"Of your inability to kiss me," he said against her throat.

"And how is this supposed to help?" she asked shakily.

Keth raised his head and gently rubbed his lips against hers.

"Do you want to kiss me?" he asked.

Lost in the hardness of his body, his scent, and those lips rubbing gently against hers, Iris swallowed slowly, her lips parting of their own volition.

"That's not an answer, Iris," Keth said softly, passing lips gently over hers once more. "Do you or do you not want to kiss me?"

Unable to help herself, Iris nodded. 

Keth was more than willing to oblige. He lowered his mouth to hers, slowly coaxing her lips with his own. Unable to do otherwise, Iris arched her neck and tilted her head to one side, parting her lips to the insisting pressure of his. Lost in his scent, his taste, she offered no resistance when his hand slid from the wall to her face, holding her closer as the kiss deepened and their tongues met. Her body was fully pressed against his. She felt everything, and knew that on some level he was just as involved in this embrace as she. 

It was the most delicious, erotic experience she had ever had, and they were just kissing. In spite of all this, entangled with that all-powerful stubborn streak, was the notion that she and Keth were just acting. This unbelievably arousing move was just a method Keth was using to cure her of her problem, and with that thought in mind, she slipped from his grasp when he broke the kiss.

"You kiss by the book," she said, her voice sounding unusually high, "I think I'm cured, thank you." 

Desperately in need of something to kill her arousal, she picked her flask off the floor and took a healthy swig. 

Keth lowered his head to his chest, letting his longish hair fall into his eyes. The woman was driving him insane! At this rate, they were going to get blue! 

He turned to his lady. She had her head buried in Nerva's small fridge. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Checking to see what kind of food Nerva's got in here. If she wants to lock us in, that's fine, but she's paying in sustenance," Iris said decidedly. "Aha!" she proclaimed, pulling two frozen pasta dishes, a half bag of salad, and a bottle of dressing from the fridge. "We feast after all!"

"Iris, I think we need to practice a little more."

Iris's spine stiffened. He saw her swallow slowly, and she turned to him, food packages in hand.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her voice ripe with cynicism, staring at him as though he'd grown a second head.

"I could just let you keep slapping me, and let one of our fellow students take over your part in the play..." He began.

"Over my dead body!" Iris said stubbornly.

"I thought you might say that — and the fact is, I have no desire to play Romeo for anyone else."

The food packages fell from Isis's hands. He was utterly serious. "What?" she asked dumbly.

"You heard me."

She felt color rush to her cheeks. She shook her head and went through the motions of jamming a pasta dish in the microwave — and prepping the salad. She felt Keth come up behind her, and her spine stiffened in awareness.

"This is crazy," she whispered. "You don't even like me."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Keth asked, running his fingers through her hair. Though barely past her shoulders, it was soft as corn silk, and the color of mahogany. 

"You pick on me all the time," she said, arching slightly as strong fingers massaged her scalp.

"Did you ever think that it was because I like you?"

"Why would a guy pick on a girl to get her attention?" she asked, tilting her head when he swept her hair to one side.

"The same reason a little boy pulls on the pigtails of the girl he likes."

"You're not a little boy, Keth."

"So glad you noticed."

"What do you want from me?" she asked, tilting her head heavenward in frustration.

"I want you to turn around and look at me. Really look at me."

Iris turned around so quickly she nearly head butted him, and quickly walked to other side of the room.

"What is your problem?" he demanded.

Iris spine stiffened and she threw back her hair, staring him down like an angry war goddess. "I know your type. You're too good looking for your own good and everything you want is handed to you on a silver platter! Football didn't work out for you so you charmed your way into acting school. You decide you want a girl, and fifteen fall at your feet! I've dated your kind before; perfect white bread males who cheat on their girlfriends and ditch them when they might be getting too involved. Society's golden boys indeed; you sicken me!"

Anger rose, dark, and sharp, combining with frustration Keth had been carrying with him for over a year. "That's big talk from a forked tongue bitch!" he retorted.

Iris laughed bitterly. "Is that the best you've got?"

"That is so unfair. You're making all sorts of assumptions about me when you won't even give me the time of day! I've worked for everything I have and I don't have to justify myself to you!" 

"Then why are you?" she demanded.

"Because I can't have everything I want! Did it ever occur to you that I only reason I bug you is to get you to look at me? Did you ever think that maybe I like it when you slap me because that's the only way to get you to touch me? Did you really think that I insist on crashing at my brother's place once a week because I like his cooking? I've been pining over you for over a year now and you dismiss every attempt I've made to get close as my teasing you!"

"Guys like you don't go for girls like me, not in the long term anyway," she said, shaking her head in denial.

"Stop lumping me into some idiot category, Iris," he said as his temper eased. "I'm one of a kind."

"So you've been pining over me..." Iris said carefully, licking her lips. From somewhere deep in her mind a voice—-surely not ours—-told her that of all the men who'd ever wooed her, Keth was the first to be completely sincere.

"For longer than you could possibly imagine," he said. He stood before her with open arms, offering all that he was to her, and in her heart clenched in response.

"What do you plan to about it?" she asked shakily, truly looking at him, taking his rich dark hair, hazel eyes, golden skin, and the bunching of muscle as he moved. In his eyes was more than determination. There was an emotion she had never seen in him before, for part of her had refused to see it. Now that she did, it surrounded, overwhelmed her, and kept her rooted to the spot. 

"Everyone tells me that I should back off and forget about you," Keth began, moving towards her in a slow, predatory tread. "Call me pathetic, but I never gave up hope."

Iris was breathing heavily now, whether it was nerves or arousal, she didn't know.

"Now I am only to ask you this once, do you want to kiss me?" 

"I..." she was so confused; the heat within her was blindingly unbearable.

"Neither for the play, nor for the practice; do you, Iris Reidan, want to kiss me?" 

He was extremely close now, offering all of himself to her, to embrace, or to cast scornfully aside. 

Iris didn't know what she wanted. He clouded her mind, and so used to thinking clearly, she was afraid.

She stepped back, trying to get away, but Keth wrapped his arm around her waist and claimed her parted lips with his own. He didn't need an answer; it was written all over her face.