A piece of her hair flutters in the wind, dragging across her face. Without thinking, I grab onto the strand and tuck it behind her ear. My skin buzzes at the contact, and I cup her cheek to hold on to the moment. Her brown eyes sparkle despite the setting sun.
Everything around us slows as I lower my head. She meets me halfway, and our lips crash together. I’ve been craving this since our first kiss. Our bodies mold together like they’re two missing parts of a puzzle.
Energy crackles where our lips touch, and I feed off it like a desperate addict. Zahra sucks in a breath. I take the opportunity to trace her bottom lip with my tongue. Her body shudders as her fingers claw into the fabric of my suit.
My head grows cloudy and the noise around us fades as Zahra deepens the kiss. Her tongue teases mine as she wraps her arms around my neck. She tastes like mint chocolate, and I’m desperate for more. It’s as if all my senses have been kicked into hyperdrive, with my spine tingling and my lips buzzing for more. More of this. More of her. More of us.
Kissing Zahra is like reaching Heaven after an eternity spent in purgatory. Like I’ve spent most of my life hopelessly ambling around, waiting for her to show me the way back to the light. She’s divine with enough wickedness to make a sinner like me want to pray in devotion.
I groan as she presses into me. My growing erection is poorly restrained by my slacks, and Zahra gasps.
Another child screams as they barrel into us and shove us apart. Zahra wobbles, but she regains her balance by herself this time.
She steps out of my reach as she looks up at me with gaping, swollen lips. “So…”
“Go on a date with me.” I take a step toward her.
“What?!” She presses a hand against her mouth as if the gesture can stop me from kissing her again.
Am I the only one affected by our connection? There’s no way. “Should I repeat myself?”
“No! To both questions.”
“Why?” I step closer to her, taking in her fresh scent of citrus mixed with the soapy smell of the foam snowflakes.
“Do you need a bigger reason besides the fact that you’re my boss?”
“That’s never stopped you from doing what you wanted before.”
Her eyes drop to the floor. “It doesn’t matter. You’re the last person I should want.”
Her words throw me back into the past—of the boy who was rejected until he learned to stop caring.
The vein in my forehead throbs. “Yeah, well, I’m not supposed to be attracted to an insufferable female who drives me to the brink of insanity yet here we are. You represent everything I dislike in someone.”
She winces. “That’s the way you really feel about me?”
Fuck. That came out all wrong. Somehow, I watched Mr. Darcy fuck up seventeen times yet still managed to fall into the same trap.
Her eyes shine, instantly making myself feel shittier.
“Shit. I didn’t mean it like that.” I cup her elbow, but she rips her arm away.
“You know what? Forget this. All I’ve done is make excuses for your behavior because I was hoping there was a decent guy underneath all that anger. But in reality, you’re nothing but a jerk who gets off on making everyone as miserable as you.” Her bottom lip wobbles.
No. That can’t be true. That’s something my father does, not me. I’m practical and blunt. There’s a difference between that and being a miserable fuck like my father.
But the way she looks at me makes me consider it for a second.
My chest tightens. “Zahra, I’m sorry. Hear me out—”
“I don’t want your apology. It means nothing coming from someone who wouldn’t know the first thing about feeling remorseful.”