“Why do you kiss me?” His gaze dropped to my lips, his jaw ticking in thought. “I wanted to know what you tasted like.” We both knew he hadn’t answered the question. He’d known what I tasted like three years ago, if that had been the only goal. “What do I taste like?” His eyes drifted back up to mine. They were so deep and serious they held me captive. His next two words tugged at my heart, even though I didn’t know the meaning. “Kak moya.”
