Miss Fix-It

I looked down as I shuffled toward the edge of the sofa. “I should go. I—”

“Kali.” He reached for me as he said my name. His fingers brushed my lower arm, and I took a deep breath in.

Brantley’s hand raised then fell, hovering close to my hair almost as if he was going to push it behind my ear.

I took a deep breath in.

I wanted him to kiss me, but at the same time, I knew that if he did, I’d probably never be able to look him in the eye again.

“Don’t,” he said softly. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I do, I—” The words caught in my throat.

He glanced at my lips, and my tongue flicked out across my lower one. His jaw twitched as he brought his gaze back up to mine.

My heart thundered against my ribs.

Yeah. I needed to leave. But I couldn’t. I was basically frozen in place, eyes focused firmly on the mesmerizing blue of Brantley’s.

Then—he did it.

Touched his lips to mine.

Kissed me.

His hands framed my face, holding me in place. Not that he needed to. I couldn’t move away even if I wanted to, because here I was, leaning into him, into the kiss, into his touch.

He pulled back. His lips hovered inches from mine. I drew in a sharp breath. His hands were still on my cheeks, and there was no way he couldn’t feel the way they heated beneath his touch.

Brantley met my eyes for a split second, then he kissed me again. This time, one hand slipped around the back of my neck. My scalp tingled as he wound his fingers in my hair.

This kiss was harder, needier, more insistent than the last.

Like he’d tested the water, and now, he was ready to drown.

I leaned right into him. My fingers found his shirt and rested on his stomach, fisting the soft cotton of his tee.

Closer and closer we became. His other hand trained down my body, sliding around my back, pulling me against him. His tongue flicked at the seam of my mouth, and I let him kiss me deeper.

Let him drag me further into the regret I knew I’d feel the second this stopped.

I didn’t care.

My whole body was alive. Skin tingled, my chest burned, my heart beat so crazily fast my pulse thundered in my ears.

Everything else had melted away, just as long as his lips were on mine.

I slid my hands up his body, cupping his neck. I barely swallowed a whimper as he dragged my lower lip between his teeth, leaning back on the cushions and pulling me with him.

His hands went lower. His thumb brushed the bare strip of skin at the base of my back where the t-shirt didn’t quite meet the waistband of my shorts. I shivered at the fleeting touch, and—

A scream ripped through the air.

A gut-wrenching, ear-splitting scream that had, quite possibly, just woken the occupants of the nearest graveyard.

The other thing it’d done?

Brought both me and Brantley crashing back down to Earth with one hell of a fucking thump.

“Fuck,” we both said.

But, I bet it was for different reasons.

I shuffled up the sofa as he stood and ran out of the room. My heart was still thumping against my ribs, and I buried my face in my hands as the reality of what had just happened fell down onto me.

Shit, shit, shit!

I’d just kissed my client.

Oh.

My.

God.

I’d just fucking kissed my client, and Lord above, my body damn well knew it, too. Swollen lips, a struggle to catch my breath—an aching fucking clitoris that throbbed inside my little lacy panties.

What the hell had I done?

I grabbed my phone and stood up. I couldn’t see my shirt, not that I could wear it. At least I hadn’t drunk so much wine I couldn’t drive.

God, I wish I’d had more wine. That might have made the fact I just kissed my client easier to bare. Blame it on the wine and not my inner slut.

Yup.

Shit.

I clutched my phone to my chest and went to the hallway to grab my keys from the bowl where I’d thrown them in my effort to hustle the kids inside without losing one of them. They clinked and scraped against the glass bowl.

The stairs creaked.

I hesitated, hand on the door handle, and turned my head back toward the stairs.

Brantley stood halfway down, leaning against the wall. His hand gripped the banister, making his knuckles white. His hair probably looked in better shape than mine, and his shirt was stupidly crinkled where I’d grabbed it.

“Everything okay?” I asked lamely.

He nodded. “Ellie. Thought there was a crocodile under the bed.”

My lips still tingled where he’d kissed me.

Four-year-olds: taking you from kissing to crocodiles in under a second.

“Right. Glad she’s fine. I, um…” I paused, glancing away briefly. “I thought I should go. It’s getting late and stuff, so…”