Caught in Us (Lost 3)

"I lied to you earlier, Dani."

"About what?"

"I don't want to be your friend. I can't be."

"Oh." I duck my chin, disappointment washing through me.

"If I were your friend, I wouldn't fantasize about your lips, kissing you and doing a whole lot of other non-friendly things," he says. My breath catches, my body liquefying in his arms. "Do you agree?" Damon asks. I lick my lips, thinking hard of what would be an appropriate reaction. When nothing comes to mind, I give a quick nod. His fingers trail up under my chin, caressing me, and then slowly turning my head to him. He moves a notch further to my side until we can look at each other.

"First time for everything, right?" I ask, swallowing hard.

A rueful smile plays on Damon's lips. "Right," he answers. I close my eyes, every nerve in my body simmering with anticipation. His lips settle onto mine, warm and soft and full. Ever so slowly, his tongue pushes my lips open, sliding inside my mouth. When our tongues touch, my veins fill with liquid fire, burning with an excruciating intensity. Damon coaxes my tongue with his—an invitation to a dance that is unknown to me, but one I am eager to discover and learn. I barely move my tongue in the beginning, afraid I might push his out involuntarily. Eventually, I pick up Damon's rhythm, allowing him to guide me. He cradles the back of my head with one hand, making me whimper with emotion as he deepens the kiss. It's so wonderfully delicious; I forget to breathe. When we break off, we are both gasping for air.

"Dani," he whispers hoarsely. I tug with both hands at his jacket, beckoning him to kiss me again. His tongue trespasses my mouth again without hesitation. Desperation grips both of us. I feel it in the way his hand shoots up, entangling in my hair. I feel it in the way my legs yearn to hitch around his waist again, like in the water. The unspoken need crackles between us and Damon lifts me off the floor, pulling me into his lap. When we stop the kiss this time around, we laugh, our foreheads pressed together.

"I've been dying to do this since we were in the water. You taste even better than I imagined," he says.

"Why didn't you kiss me in the water?"

"We were both naked. It was too dangerous."

"And this is safe?" I smile, pointing to our telling position.

"This is perfect." He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear then wraps his arms tightly around me. "You’re cold," he adds, taking off his jacket and putting it around my shoulders. Something about his gesture tugs at my heartstrings. A conflicted look grips his features.

"What's wrong?"

"Dani, I don't want to make any false promises. I'm no good for you." The timing of his confession isn't lost on me. Right after our first kiss. I take the cue all right: I should have no false hopes, harbor no romantic dreams.

"I disagree," I say in a trembling voice, fixing my eyes on the top button of his shirt.

"I don't have anything to offer to you, any set future. Any future at all, actually. I assume you have big plans, and I don't want to stand in your way. You'll go to college. I don’t plan to. The minute we graduate, I'll go as far from California as possible." I remain quiet, feeling my eyes burn, praying I won't tear up. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

Cupping my cheeks with both hands, he utters words that fill me with hope like nothing else could. "I'll do my best. You mean more to me than anything else in my life right now."

Chapter Twelve: Dani

I spend Friday afternoon daydreaming and texting Hazel every detail about the kiss. Normally, I would have waited until Saturday morning to tell her about it, during our weekly yoga class, but since she won't be back from her trip until Monday, texting will have to do. She'd kill me if I kept this to myself for so long.

On Saturday, I end up do

ing two yoga classes and only arrive home mid-afternoon. Of course, no one is home except the cook. She heats me up food, and I eat a very early dinner in the kitchen with her. She tells me my parents are in San Francisco, attending a charity gala. They didn't mention it to me at all, but I've long since given up trying to keep up with their social commitments. I decide to read after dinner, but find myself daydreaming about Damon again. I run my fingers over my lips, remembering how it felt when he kissed me. It was so surreal; I’m almost afraid I imagined it. He makes me pulse with life. When he looks at me, it's like he can see right through me. The fact that I haven't heard from him since yesterday is starting to worry me. I drag myself to the wall of books in my bedroom, trying to decide what to read. My phone buzzes with an incoming message. My stomach jolts. The sender: Damon.

"What are you doing?"

"Reading," I text back fast.

One second later: "Any plans for tonight?"

My stomach jolts stronger than before. "Other than more reading? No."

"Want to go out?"

I read the words over and over again, excitement dusting all over my skin. "Is it a date?" I want to type more, but I see the little dots indicating he is writing, as well. I wait, my heart hammering.

"You'll be the judge of that."