Page 55 of A Dark Fall

He chuckles. “Yeah, well, I’m gonna bet you don’t know anyone from Bromley, baby.”

“Well, I know one.” I giggle.

He leans in then and flicks his tongue over my lips before kissing me. His kiss is soft at first, teasing, his tongue licking into my mouth for a moment before he tilts his head to deepen it. More intense. The knot of pressure in my stomach that’s always there when I’m around him expands.

God, I want him. I want to kiss every inch of his body until my mouth is raw and sore.

“So, you think I’m completely hot?” he says against my mouth.

“Completely,” I whisper as he pulls back.

“Well, the feeling is completely mutual, Doctor. You drive me fucking crazy.” He shakes his head and looks down at our entwined hands once more.

I drivehimcrazy? I feel completely self-certifiable around him. As if I have a whole other personality I didn’t know about. It’s dangerous when you can’t think straight.

So, being with him is dangerous then. Which I suppose I always knew. No earth-shattering revelation there. It’s just that it’s also exciting and intense and, for now, completely necessary, and these things are far stronger. Far louder.

Jake pays for dinner, and we walk together out of the restaurant, his arm wrapped somewhat possessively around my waist. Again, I like how it feels there, like when I awoke with it over me. My head is light and fuzzy from the wine, but there’s no point in kidding myself—it’s also light and fuzzy from him.

When we get to his car, he stops and turns me around to face him, nuzzling me back against the passenger-side door. He presses his warm body into me and reaches up to brush my hair back behind my shoulder as he looks deep into my eyes. His face is so open to me now, blinds up, curtains pulled wide, and all that shines back is desire and lust.

“Thanks for dinner,” I whisper, overwhelmed.

He nods as he brushes his thumb across my jaw and then my lip. “Thanks for having dinner with me. For not standing me up again.”

I shake my head, about to apologize, but before I get the chance, he leans forward and captures my lips. I moan as he slides his tongue inside, as he sucks at my mouth and moans low into the kiss. He kisses me like no one has ever kissed me. He tastes like heat and spice, and the sounds he makes as he tastes me are like nothing else. My hands go around his waist and under his jacket to pull him in closer, and we kiss like that, on the street, like teenagers, for what seems like hours.

Yet when he breaks away, it feels as if it wasn’t nearly long enough.

I blink open my eyes, and he makes his little playful growling noise from low in his throat—something that is becoming a familiar Jake trait to me.

“Mmm, yeah, we need to stop before I get carried away,” he says.

I want him to get carried away.

He takes some of my hair in his hand and runs the ends through his fingers. “Now, in my fantasy date with Alex, I take you home and fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your life,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh. “But I want to show you how much of a gentleman I can be and get you home in one piece. So, help me out here, yeah?” He sighs.

Jake kisses me lightly on the mouth once more, groaning as he pulls back to open the car door. Fantasy date with Alex.He has a fantasy of a date with me? Internally, I want to squeal. He gets in, turns on the engine, and stops, sensing me looking at him.

“What?” He’s smiling almost shyly.

“Nothing.” I look away from him and out the front window.

“What happened to all that sharing stuff? Not nothing.” He leans back against the driver’s door, eyes wide and expectant. He’s right.

Okay, how to word this without sounding like a crazy person ...

“I suppose ... well, I was thinking about how you are absolutely nothing like how I imagined you would be when we first met.” I give a small half-shrug.

“How youimaginedme? Wait—what? Does that mean you fantasized about me?” He grins.

I reach across to hit him gently on the thigh, sighing impatiently. When I look back at him, his expression has turned more serious.

“Sorry. What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The night I first met you ... I guess I had an idea of you in my head about how you might be outside of all ... that.” God, what on earth has happened to my ability to express myself in words? “You’re just ... different.”

Jake looks at me for a long time. A really long time, actually. Too long. “No, Alex. I’m pretty sure I’m exactly the person you thought I’d be. I’m different with you is all.” His voice sounds sad, regretful even. He nods and then turns around, releases the hand brake, and pulls out into the traffic.