“If I put my mask back on, will you kiss me?”
“No.”
She tried to pull away, but I had a solid grip on her body as I pulled her across my lap so that she was almost straddling me. Her eyes were uncertain as they looked from my lips to my eyes then back again.
“No masks this time.” I lowered my mouth to hers. “No masks.”
“No masks,” she repeated, her tongue sliding into my mouth.
And just like that, I sealed my fate.
And signed my destiny right along with his.
Cheerfully.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I hated her so much… I wanted to strangle her as much as I wanted to kiss her… I wanted her to feel pain the way I felt pain — raw, uncontrollable. The more I think about what she did to me, what she made me feel? The more angry I become… I am anger, and she is my catalyst. —The Journal of Taylor B.
Lisa
HIS KISS WAS slow; he tasted like mint as his tongue flicked mine then went deeper into my mouth, exploring me as much as I was exploring him. A
part of me — you know, the sane part — was totally freaked, but something about his touch, about his kiss calmed me, made me think that maybe, just maybe he was safe.
I needed safe.
He deepened the kiss, his hands moving around to my hips and pulling me against him. With a moan, I tipped my head back as his lips moved away from mine and found places on my neck no guy had ever, ever taken the time to find. I closed my eyes in ecstasy as his hot mouth devoured, infusing his touch and scent into my memory.
“You’re beautiful,” he said gruffly, his lips still teasing my neck. His mouth moved to my ear. His kiss was wet, hot, as he whispered in my ear, “You are absolutely beautiful.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to be the girl that could make out without puking, the girl who could ignore the fact that my ridiculously sexy and mysterious professor had just ordered me pizza and was making out with me on the couch.
But most of all? I wanted to ignore the fact that my life was hanging on by a thread… a thread Taylor still held. Heck, he held both thread and scissors.
“Lisa…” Tristan’s mouth covered mine again, heat soared through my body. “…before…” He finally pulled back and looked directly into my eyes. “Tell me, tell me what happened.”
I froze. My hands clenched his shirt so tight it was going to permanently wrinkle it where my fingers had tugged.
“You can trust me,” he whispered.
“I can’t,” I said honestly. “At least not yet.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “Okay, then it seems I have a lot of work to do.”
“You’re leaving?” Rejection slammed into me.
His eyebrows shot up. “Does it look like I want to be anywhere but here?”
Confused, I shook my head. “But you said work—”
“Work on your trust,” His eyes narrowed. “Do you really have no idea the effect you have on me? On possibly the entire male population, including the blind?”
I laughed and rolled my eyes, trying to pull away from him as a blush crept up my cheeks.
“No.” He held me firm in his lap. “You are magnificent.” He kissed me softly on the lips. “Anyone who says differently is clearly insane.”
“Says the guy who let me get out of his car.”