He curves down, breaking the height difference in a graceful arc, and rubs his lips across mine. It’s barely a kiss. It’s a question. It’s the start of something, one of those endless lines of possibilities that ripple out from me, only this one gleams and pulses and shows me the way until I get to that realization I’ve been fighting and I stand face to face with it. I want him. God, do I want him.
