So, I do.
And he tastes sweet, sugary, like I'm licking brownie batter from the bowl. But this is so much more gluttonous. His hand fixes itself to my cheek, thumb moving back and forth gently. The kiss is slow, warm, two lovers kissing at the altar.
My mind flashes with a picture of Kellan and I standing in a big church, him in black, me draped in white. I yank back from him. He blinks for a moment, eyes slowly opening. Hand still on my cheek, his lips curve upwards in a knowing smile and he leans in again.
The look, the movements, so caring, thoughtful. What is this? What's happening? This isn't Kellan. Soft, supple lips hit my own and Kellan's thumb resumes its stroking. Slow and tender. My gut stirs, this isn't what I want. Kellan is supposed to be domineering, passionate - a playbo
