6. Karol

The man could kiss.

Every thought or worry was wiped clear from my head with every drag of his lips against mine to the point I almost forgot my own name.

And I loved it.

Dan Palmer, ex-Navy SEAL, was too good for his own good. Maybe it was experience or his age or both? When we pulled away, we were both breathless, and I wondered if I had the same happily surprised gleam in my eyes as he did.

"Jesus, you're a real-life miracle, kitten," he huffed, his voice deep and scratchy. But before I could say anything or ask what he meant, his lips fell back on mine. Where the first kiss started slow and warm and sweet before it turned hot, this one simply picked up where we'd left off. Hot and heavy and so much more than hungry. It was like we were starving for one another.

He tasted good, too.

His tongue lashed against mine and my teeth scraped against his. My toes curled as I pressed my front against his. We were so close I doubted a sheet of paper fit between us.

"Dan," I moaned. His hand tightened on my neck. His lips fell from mine but didn't go too far.

Nope. Not at all.

Not when they skated down my jaw and into my neck. Suddenly, breathing was almost impossible. Funny how that was when there was nothing stopping me from doing it. His mouth wasn't on mine; it was on my neck, yet I couldn't catch my breath.

The feel of his hot, wet mouth on my bare skin sent heat through my entire being. I'd never known I could be that sensitive. My entire body felt like it was on fire. Wet heat pooled between my legs, and my thighs pressed together for some kind of relief. It wasn't enough, not even close, but it was something.

I'd kissed different men in the past, but none like him. No one had ever made me feel and ache and want like Dan. His scruffy jaw left a trail of heat and made it feel like every nerve ending was on its hands and knees begging for attention.

Before I knew it, I realized I was no longer standing on my own two feet. My legs were wrapped around Dan's waist and my hands were cupping his handsome face as we kissed.

Right there in public, where anyone still walking about could see us.

And I didn't care.

"Dan," I whimpered. "Show me your place," I requested softly. Not because I wasn't sure of what I wanted, but because I didn't want anyone to hear us.

"You sure? Kitten, if I take you there—" I pulled back and placed the tips of my fingers against his full lips.

"I'm sure." I smiled, and then it fell.

"What? What is it?" His light brown eyes searched mine for some hint about my hesitation.

"I don't do this," I blurted, and he frowned. "I just… I don't want you to think that I go looking for hot older men to?—"

"I know that." He shook his head and exhaled roughly. "I don't do this either." And then he winced, like he had almost accidentally caught himself in a lie. "I don't do this anymore," he corrected. My hand slid off his face and rested on his broad muscular shoulder. "I used to when I was young. I can't tell you I wasn't some kind of jackass fuckboy back in the day but?—"

"Fuckboy?" I repeated and giggled. "Dan, I'm not a virgin but?—"

"I'm not expecting you to be," he interrupted, and something loosened inside of me. Are we actually having this conversation? Laying out the logistics of what could more than likely only be a fling? A summer hookup? A memory I was positive would ruin me for any other men, if the way he kissed had anything to say about it.

"I'm not saying that. I just… it's been a long time." A really long time, I thought to myself.

"I'm not a choir boy, Karol. But I can promise you I haven't been with anyone in a long time either." He cleared his throat. "About a year now. I'm clean. I've been tested and?—"

"I am, too," I shared. Wow, we"re having this conversation. With that, he let my body slide down, and I didn't miss just how hard he was. His features were shadowed with how he was looking down at me, and the streetlight cast a silvery hue behind him. If the sight of him wasn't enough to rock my world, the next thing he said did.

"I can also tell you I haven't felt this way about anyone in a while. Or ever." My heart fluttered in my chest.

"You just met me," I pointed out, and he smiled. There was a gentleness about him I had a feeling was for my eyes only.

"I saw you, out there last night." He pointed behind him. "I'm renting the condo just behind where you were painting your rock. I'm the one with the yellow door," he kept sharing, and all I could think about was the fact this man had been out there the same night I'd made a wish on a shooting star. It had to mean something. Especially when I felt the way I did about him.

I knew no matter what, right or wrong, for however long he'd be around, I wouldn't be able to have an ounce of self-preservation when it came to him.

I was going to take a chance.