backs of his knuckles over the décolletage she displayed. She hadn’t reprimanded him the first time; he didn’t think she’d object now. At least he hoped she wouldn’t.
He felt her shiver when she inhaled a deep breath. Her eyes slipped shut for the briefest of moments as she visibly swallowed and surrendered to their stolen moment. No regrets. He knew this was his moment. He couldn’t walk away from her anymore, couldn’t stop the deep desire to have her as his own for another second. It was damn well time he made her aware that she belonged to him.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, breathless.
“Give me one reason to stop.” His hand spread out, cupping her fragile neck and nape. “You wanted to play at what the other guests are playing tonight. What’s stopping you from doing so with me, Jez?”
Her head tilted back and the tip of her tongue dashed out to lick at her powdered lips.
There was some type of madness ensnaring him, one that wouldn’t let go until he did what he had always wanted to do to this particular woman. If she wanted to live scandalously, then he’d give her scandal. If she wanted to live on the edge of propriety, he’d throw them both over that line.
There were a million things he could have done in that moment, a hundred things that would preserve their long friendship. He didn’t want to play this safe, for there was nothing safe about Jez. There never had been, and that was part of what drew him to her like that hapless moth to the flame she’d likened him to.
He brushed his thumb over her lips again, liking how soft they were beneath his touch.
“What are you doing?” she asked quietly.
“Just this.”
His head lowered and his lips feathered across hers. It was the briefest fluttering of lips against lips. Their breaths mingled, and he lingered there, not ready to move away—not now that he’d started this.
Jez froze and grew rigid in his hold. He pulled away slowly and stared down at her confused expression. What had she felt? Was she baffled as to why he’d done it? Had she felt anything close to desire for him with that kiss?
“To hell with it,” he muttered.
He kissed her harder the second time, letting their lips meld, letting his tongue sweep out to taste the residue of champagne on her parted lips. She wasn’t pushing him away, nor was she kissing him back. Perhaps he’d shocked her and she was still trying to process exactly what had happened to bring on this kiss.
It was long overdue.
Hayden’s hand slid over the base of her back again, and in small increments he felt her body loosen and mold to the front of his. Her mouth opened to him and suddenly he didn’t care that he was kissing his best friend, nor did he think she minded, either.
He could feel the pounding of her heart where their chests were crushed together. This was how he’d always wanted her: in his arms, desperate to taste something that should be forbidden but needing it all the same.
His free hand shaped to the soft curve of her jaw, working its way higher and threading through the pinned curls at the back of her head where her mask was tied.
She’d been under his skin for so long that her touch was setting him ablaze with need. All the feelings he had for her, buried all these years, were at the forefront. There was nothing to stop him from claiming her as his own now that she was widowed, now that she was in his arms accepting his touch. His kiss.
He wanted her with a ferocity that bordered on madness. He needed her in his life like the very breath that filled his lungs. Now that he’d broken through the thin barrier that had always separated their relationship between friendship and love …
There was no going back.
He released her lips, turned his head, and exhaled in a rush. She didn’t try to move out of his hold while he reined in his need for more than a simple kiss.
Wrong place, wrong time.
Damn it.
“This is not a good idea,” she whispered,
He felt her shiver when she inhaled a deep breath. Her eyes slipped shut for the briefest of moments as she visibly swallowed and surrendered to their stolen moment. No regrets. He knew this was his moment. He couldn’t walk away from her anymore, couldn’t stop the deep desire to have her as his own for another second. It was damn well time he made her aware that she belonged to him.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, breathless.
“Give me one reason to stop.” His hand spread out, cupping her fragile neck and nape. “You wanted to play at what the other guests are playing tonight. What’s stopping you from doing so with me, Jez?”
Her head tilted back and the tip of her tongue dashed out to lick at her powdered lips.
There was some type of madness ensnaring him, one that wouldn’t let go until he did what he had always wanted to do to this particular woman. If she wanted to live scandalously, then he’d give her scandal. If she wanted to live on the edge of propriety, he’d throw them both over that line.
There were a million things he could have done in that moment, a hundred things that would preserve their long friendship. He didn’t want to play this safe, for there was nothing safe about Jez. There never had been, and that was part of what drew him to her like that hapless moth to the flame she’d likened him to.
He brushed his thumb over her lips again, liking how soft they were beneath his touch.
“What are you doing?” she asked quietly.
“Just this.”
His head lowered and his lips feathered across hers. It was the briefest fluttering of lips against lips. Their breaths mingled, and he lingered there, not ready to move away—not now that he’d started this.
Jez froze and grew rigid in his hold. He pulled away slowly and stared down at her confused expression. What had she felt? Was she baffled as to why he’d done it? Had she felt anything close to desire for him with that kiss?
“To hell with it,” he muttered.
He kissed her harder the second time, letting their lips meld, letting his tongue sweep out to taste the residue of champagne on her parted lips. She wasn’t pushing him away, nor was she kissing him back. Perhaps he’d shocked her and she was still trying to process exactly what had happened to bring on this kiss.
It was long overdue.
Hayden’s hand slid over the base of her back again, and in small increments he felt her body loosen and mold to the front of his. Her mouth opened to him and suddenly he didn’t care that he was kissing his best friend, nor did he think she minded, either.
He could feel the pounding of her heart where their chests were crushed together. This was how he’d always wanted her: in his arms, desperate to taste something that should be forbidden but needing it all the same.
His free hand shaped to the soft curve of her jaw, working its way higher and threading through the pinned curls at the back of her head where her mask was tied.
She’d been under his skin for so long that her touch was setting him ablaze with need. All the feelings he had for her, buried all these years, were at the forefront. There was nothing to stop him from claiming her as his own now that she was widowed, now that she was in his arms accepting his touch. His kiss.
He wanted her with a ferocity that bordered on madness. He needed her in his life like the very breath that filled his lungs. Now that he’d broken through the thin barrier that had always separated their relationship between friendship and love …
There was no going back.
He released her lips, turned his head, and exhaled in a rush. She didn’t try to move out of his hold while he reined in his need for more than a simple kiss.
Wrong place, wrong time.
Damn it.
“This is not a good idea,” she whispered,
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