Clarity

Chapter Six

The heat woke me up. If felt like I was stuck in the middle of the Sahara with nothing but a small bottle of sunscreen and a heating blanket. Sweaty was nowhere near the term I could use to describe how unbelievably hot it was.

I tried to turn but groaned as a something on pressed deeper into my side at the angle. My eyes fluttered open and I stared at Jack who was sleeping soundly behind me, one arm thrown over my waist and keeping me pinned down.

I felt my cheeks hit and I bite my tongue painfully to try to control the sudden blush.

What are you doing, I hissed at myself. Don’t go blushing over him! You were doing so well, too! Think about it—this guy has been lying to you from the start! And he kidnapped you! True, the kidnapping is a bit old news now…but it still goes on his permanent record! You are not to blush over him!

I leaned forward, studying his closed eyes and the bridge of his nose and the way his sharp cheek bones and sharp jaw made him look undeniably handsome. His pale pink lips were parted just slightly and I couldn’t help but notice that his breath smelt almost like peppermints. I found myself wondering if he tasted like them too.

One kiss couldn’t hurt, I reasoned.

One kiss could definitely hurt, the smarter, sane part of my mind snapped back. Don’t think about kissing him! Don’t you dare think about how soft his lips would be or how nice his tongue would feel or…or…fuck.

I smiled at the inner defeat and realized I really was crazy if I was fighting with myself. But I had to slightly agree. Kissing him was a very bad idea and I wasn’t completely sure why I wanted to—possibly because of my heart’s love for him? I couldn’t possibly love him. I didn’t even like him. And what if he woke up?

My smile lifted a bit more and I leaned a bit closer, closing my eyes.

I could blame it on my heart. It was her fault. Or I could blame it on sleep. Sleep sounded good. Instead of a sleep walker, I could be a sleep kisser. I could steal kisses in my sleep.

Despite the rational part of my mind telling me that kissing him was an awful idea, our lips met gently and I nearly melted at the slight touch.

His lips were warm and hummed with energy similar to his body. I pressed into him, his arm unconsciously tightening around me as his lips moved against mine.

I tilted my head slightly, kissing him slowly, unsure of how quick I needed to be. I felt drugged by his lips and the slight tease of peppermint that crossed from his lips to mine at the touch. My hand touched his neck and even that slight feel ignited a fire in my palm that spread through my veins and made my heart start pounding faster.

All sense of slow and gentle seemed to melt away as the need to be closer grew heavier. I kissed him a touch faster, my tongue gently gliding between his lips before I realized that his lips were moving against mine, his tongue against touch own in an intricate dance as he pressed me onto my back.

The weight of his body soothed the ache between my legs just slightly and I said to Hell with all the rationality and sanity that kept screaming at me to have control.

His hands touched my thighs and I lifted against him, squirming slightly against the feel of his pants. The sensation was too much of a tease and never having sex was beginning to take its toll on me.

But then he said my name—just a soft whisper—and everything came racing back.

“What the Hell!” I gasped, shoving him off. “What…What was that about?! Why did you do that?!”