The Matchmaker's Choice: A Lesbian Romance

step in and place a kiss quickly to her cheek.

We’re both surprised. I might say silly things, things I

really haven’t fully thought out, but I’m generally not really an

impulsive person when it comes to affection.

Steph stops walking. Her hand flutters to my jaw and

tips my face up. She cradles my face gently. I close my eyes,

intent on enjoying this moment. I don’t want to think about

anything else. I just want there to be this.

Our lips meet. It’s more than just a meeting of skin and

nerves. This kiss feels like the most spectacular thing that’s

ever happened to me. There’s the shivers and the tingling. The

hard curl of desire, the shower of sparks and the savoring of

her mouth. There’s the softness and the firm press of her

thighs against mine. There’s the physical, and then there’s the

non-physical. The plane where I don’t normally let myself

exist. The emotional. The need. The connection. The way I

feel like my heart and soul are reaching out to hers.

Maybe this is what she means by something that can

change the whole basis of our existence. My whole universe. I

don’t think I’ve ever kissed anyone without holding back, but I

want to now, even though we’re in the middle of a hallway, in

the middle of a hotel.

A throat clears loudly at the end of the hallway.

Steph and I break apart. Not guiltily and not quickly.

Her hand stays cradling my face. Our bodies curl away, but

she’s still here. Still safe. Still burning.

There’s no one there. Whoever was standing there isn’t

there anymore, or maybe they were just walking through and

since it’s supposed to be a classy place, decided that people

making out like teenagers in the hallway wasn’t appropriate.