Black Roses (A Mitchell Sisters Novel) by Samantha Christy

Black Roses (A Mitchell Sisters Novel) by Samantha Christy

Author:Samantha Christy [Christy, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Athena Books Publishing Group
Published: 2016-03-28T23:00:00+00:00


~ ~ ~

When we return to Skylar’s, I see through the sidelight that the townhouse is dark. Only the lights over the stove illuminate the kitchen in a soft glow. Skylar and Griffin must have turned in early. Little Aaron has been wearing them out.

Mason comes up behind me. His fingertips trail down my arms, sending quivers of anticipation charging through me. He takes my hand in his. “I’ll walk you in. Just to get you settled.”

The three glasses of champagne I had tonight unite and decide that allowing him inside after our date is not an abhorrent idea after all.

As I walk to the kitchen to deposit my purse on the counter, every hair on my neck is acutely aware of how he follows me, step for step. I steady myself against the cold granite, wondering if I can handle what comes next.

Kissing—that’s what comes next.

I slowly turn around keeping my eyes glued to the ground. I’ve kissed a few men over the past few years. Kissing is safe. Kissing doesn’t scare me. Probably because it’s the one thing that doesn’t plague my dreams. My lips belong to me, not them. It’s the stuff after the kissing that terrifies me.

Still, those I’ve kissed in the past didn’t stick around for an encore. And I could hardly blame them. Each benign encounter felt like a kiss from my father. No excitement. No fireworks. They were plain. Unexciting. Ordinary.

Part of me hates the thought of ruining what Mason and I have. Once we kiss, everything will change. It will be awkward and forced. I will stiffen like a board. He will pull away, feigning some kind of forgotten appointment or family emergency. It happens. Every time. Just because kissing is safe doesn’t mean I’m any good at it.

When I was little, before my life went to shit, I used to practice kissing my handheld mirror. I imagine the men who have endured my kisses have a similar experience—feeling as if they are kissing something inanimate. Empty.

“Don’t think about it, Piper. Just do it.”

Mason’s voice startles me, reminding me I’m not alone. It’s now I realize I’ve been staring at his lips. This whole time, I’ve been mindlessly staring at his full, firm, inviting lips, probably looking like a feline in heat.

“Mason, I’m not sure—”

Before I can tell him all the reasons for not wanting to ruin what has become a beautiful friendship, his lips meet mine.

And I don’t stiffen.

I melt.

I melt into his firm yet soft lips, the heat from them searing through my body, a tornado destroying everything in its path, leaving me utterly destroyed in its wake. Ruined for any other lips that may try to claim mine in the future.

Every atom in my small universe is focused on the movement of his mouth against mine. Every particle of my being is hoping he won’t ever stop. Every thought that infiltrates my head gives me reasons to pull away.

But I don’t.

I don’t.

Realization consumes me. I want this. I want him.



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