made the deliciousness of what was going on, the hot spur-of-the-moment kiss, dissipate and reality rear its ugly head.
Damn reality, she mentally grumbled.
Sighing, she pushed away from him, creating space between them.
“Keanu, stop,” she pleaded, nearly breathless.
She knew the minute reality crashed in on him, as well. No sooner had she shoved away from him, nearly stumbling as she did so, than she caught the string of emotions cross his handsome face. He closed his eyes briefly before running a hand through his dark hair.
“God, I am sorry for that. I don’t know what in hell came over me to do something like that,” he began, taking a step toward her, one hand extended.
Sonia didn’t know whether to be happy, sad or mad at his exclamation. Or what to make of the look of disgust that crossed his face. Was her kiss that awful?
She knew the minute he caught her reaction. Usually she considered herself a good poker player, but as much as she tried to hold her cards close, she feared her true feelings showed. God, can a hole just open up and swallow me? she wondered, wanting to run as far away as possible, quickly, in order to get it together. The simple kiss had been as devastating as it was short, too short.
Oh, God, I need help, she thought, feeling the heat threaten to burn her face completely up. Even now she yearned to feel his mouth on hers again.
She took a deep breath and stepped back, away, trying to hide her face, knowing the message desperate woman had to be blazing across her forehead.
She did what any woman in her shoes would do: she put a mask over her emotions.
She pursed her lips, frowning, with a look she hoped passed as offense plastered on her face, in an effort to save face. After a moment she knew her faux look had been read and interpreted as she’d wanted.
“What was that all about?” she asked tightly.
A sense of relief mixed with regret when he quickly brought his hand down. For a brief moment, she thought she saw disappointment in his eyes.
She kept a tight lock on her face, her body, forcing herself not to go to him, explain that she didn’t mean what she’d said.
She stopped herself, barely. He turned away, his big shoulders hunching down. It was long moments before he spoke, but she waited, knowing that the ball was in his court, as she’d volleyed it back to him.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured in his deep baritone voice. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Sonia waited for him to say more. Yes, she knew she could have gone to him, breached the small gap, turned him around and told him it was okay, he hadn’t really done anything to her that she didn’t want. He hadn’t done anything to her that she hadn’t been yearning for, for weeks. She could have laughed and shrugged it off as a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing.
Yet she held back, some inner voice telling her it wasn’t the way to go. Let him think what he wanted. It was the best thing.
It was bad enough how this guy made her feel, plunging her back to her adolescence as thoughts of him plagued her night and day like some lovesick kid, without him knowing how badly he affected her. Best thing to do was get this over with, play it off, laugh it off, whatever. ...
He turned to face her. The fake smile slipped and she put it firmly back in place, brightly keeping all feelings firmly on lockdown. When he moved as though to walk closer, she held out a restraining hand. “Look, no need for any more apologies,” she said, a breathless laugh tumbling from her lips. “No biggie, we both just got caught up in the moment.”
A frown marked his nearly perfect features. “Look, Ms. Brandon, I—”
“Ms. Brandon? Come on, I thought we already agreed...first names.” She maintained the bright smile and, with her next words, drove in the nail.
“Hey, after a kiss like that, I’m pretty sure we’re on a first-name basis.” Before the smile could slip she leaned down and grabbed her messenger bag and
Damn reality, she mentally grumbled.
Sighing, she pushed away from him, creating space between them.
“Keanu, stop,” she pleaded, nearly breathless.
She knew the minute reality crashed in on him, as well. No sooner had she shoved away from him, nearly stumbling as she did so, than she caught the string of emotions cross his handsome face. He closed his eyes briefly before running a hand through his dark hair.
“God, I am sorry for that. I don’t know what in hell came over me to do something like that,” he began, taking a step toward her, one hand extended.
Sonia didn’t know whether to be happy, sad or mad at his exclamation. Or what to make of the look of disgust that crossed his face. Was her kiss that awful?
She knew the minute he caught her reaction. Usually she considered herself a good poker player, but as much as she tried to hold her cards close, she feared her true feelings showed. God, can a hole just open up and swallow me? she wondered, wanting to run as far away as possible, quickly, in order to get it together. The simple kiss had been as devastating as it was short, too short.
Oh, God, I need help, she thought, feeling the heat threaten to burn her face completely up. Even now she yearned to feel his mouth on hers again.
She took a deep breath and stepped back, away, trying to hide her face, knowing the message desperate woman had to be blazing across her forehead.
She did what any woman in her shoes would do: she put a mask over her emotions.
She pursed her lips, frowning, with a look she hoped passed as offense plastered on her face, in an effort to save face. After a moment she knew her faux look had been read and interpreted as she’d wanted.
“What was that all about?” she asked tightly.
A sense of relief mixed with regret when he quickly brought his hand down. For a brief moment, she thought she saw disappointment in his eyes.
She kept a tight lock on her face, her body, forcing herself not to go to him, explain that she didn’t mean what she’d said.
She stopped herself, barely. He turned away, his big shoulders hunching down. It was long moments before he spoke, but she waited, knowing that the ball was in his court, as she’d volleyed it back to him.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured in his deep baritone voice. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Sonia waited for him to say more. Yes, she knew she could have gone to him, breached the small gap, turned him around and told him it was okay, he hadn’t really done anything to her that she didn’t want. He hadn’t done anything to her that she hadn’t been yearning for, for weeks. She could have laughed and shrugged it off as a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing.
Yet she held back, some inner voice telling her it wasn’t the way to go. Let him think what he wanted. It was the best thing.
It was bad enough how this guy made her feel, plunging her back to her adolescence as thoughts of him plagued her night and day like some lovesick kid, without him knowing how badly he affected her. Best thing to do was get this over with, play it off, laugh it off, whatever. ...
He turned to face her. The fake smile slipped and she put it firmly back in place, brightly keeping all feelings firmly on lockdown. When he moved as though to walk closer, she held out a restraining hand. “Look, no need for any more apologies,” she said, a breathless laugh tumbling from her lips. “No biggie, we both just got caught up in the moment.”
A frown marked his nearly perfect features. “Look, Ms. Brandon, I—”
“Ms. Brandon? Come on, I thought we already agreed...first names.” She maintained the bright smile and, with her next words, drove in the nail.
“Hey, after a kiss like that, I’m pretty sure we’re on a first-name basis.” Before the smile could slip she leaned down and grabbed her messenger bag and
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