The first kiss was hungry, clumsy, a collision of teeth and suppressed want. Jamie’s back hit the wine racks; a bottle wobbled but didn’t fall. Leo’s fingers found the back of Jamie’s neck, then the perfect sharp angle of his jaw. Jamie laughed against his mouth—a surprised, breathless sound—and kissed him back harder.
“Takes one to know one.” Leo pocketed the phone, then yanked Jamie back in by his stupid, perfect lapels. “We’re not leaving for another hour.” pwp prompts
“Sure.” Jamie’s mouth curved. “We could discuss why you stared at my hands for forty-five minutes during the toasts.” The first kiss was hungry, clumsy, a collision
A text from his cousin: “Door’s not really locked. You’re welcome. 😘” “We could discuss why you stared at my
Jamie pushed off the barrel and walked toward him slowly. Not menacingly. Deliberately. The way a storm front walks toward a coastline. “We could just wait.”
“Obviously.”
Leo grabbed his wrist. Not to push him away. To hold him there.