Until I Wrote Him
He steps closer.
One step.
Two.
The distance collapses.
Air thins,
His scent, clean smoke, spice, winter frost wraps around me.
His face dips toward mine.
And before my brain can form a thought,
Our lips brush.
Just barely.
Fireworks burst behind my ribs, cascading down my spine.
My knees weaken, traitorous and trembling. My tongue flicks out instinctively, tasting the heat he left behind.
I want more.
Roman’s hand slides around my waist, pulling me in gently, but with promise before his mouth claims mine fully, swallowing the breath from my lungs.