Free Hidden Deep by Amy Patrick Page A

away from him, he stopped mid-motion. His forearms were tightly tensed, corded with muscle. He was trembling.
    With indecision? With excitement? The thought excited me, and I pressed closer to him.
    “Ryann, please… don’t.” He closed his eyes and went silent as my fingertips slipped up to his temple.
    His obvious response to me coupled with his restraint only made me braver. My heart beat harder. I stroked the worry lines on his warm forehead, smoothing a curling golden lock of hair back away from his face. One of my fingertips skated lightly over his lips.
    When Lad opened his eyes again, they were bright, blazing like green sea glass reflecting a beach bonfire.
    Hearing his harsh breathing and absorbing his quickening pulse under the hot skin of his face with my fingertips, my own breathing changed. My head felt funny. I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to regain control of my wild heart palpitations.
    And suddenly I knew he was going to kiss me. I sensed it coming. I didn’t need my vision to tell me his mouth was only millimeters away from my lips. I could feel the heat of his breath, smell the inviting warm scent of his skin. And I wanted it.
    I’d been kissed a few times before—hesitant, clumsy kisses involving mouth metal or abundant saliva, and wondering how long was an acceptable length of time before pulling away and ending it. This was nothing like that. I waited, face upturned toward his, for the moment of contact, for the kind of first kiss I’d always dreamed of.
    Lad’s lips slid gently across mine at first. My skin went hot all over, and I was dazed by the warmth and softness of his mouth. I stood on my toes and stretched to get closer to the source of all that maddening heat and sweetness. His arms closed tighter around my waist, and my hands slid to grip his shoulders.
    The kiss was perfect, firm but not too aggressive, gently exploring and inviting me to do the same. An involuntary sound came from my mouth, embarrassing me, but it seemed to excite Lad. He caught and muffled it, fitting his burning lips perfectly to mine. He brought a large hand up to cradle the back of my head, so tenderly, and I could feel the coiled tension of his arms and shoulders. Under the luxurious, patient pressure of his lips, mine began to part, opening up to him.
    With a rough gasp, Lad pulled away from my mouth and cupped the back of my head in his hand, pressing my cheek tightly against his chest. It rose and fell in a dangerous rhythm. His breathing was audibly fast and harsh.
    I was a little worried for him. And for me. Because I wanted to put my hand behind his strong neck and pull his mouth back down to mine, to beg or force him to kiss me again and again until… I didn’t know what, but I didn’t want it to end. Most of all, I didn’t want to let Lad out of my grasp. I was too afraid he’d disappear again.
    “Lad…” I whispered, unsure of what I wanted to say. He held my upper arms and moved me away, putting a tiny bit of distance between us. His eyes flared with excitement as he looked at me.
    “I’ve never done that before.” He continued to breathe abnormally fast. “Did I do it right?”
    Are you kidding me? He’d practically incinerated me with his kiss, and he asked if he’d done it right. As if I was some kind of authority on the subject. Lad looked into my eyes with such hopeful sincerity. He wasn’t kidding.
    I tried to compose myself enough to give a coherent answer. “It definitely felt right.” He looked relieved. And happy. His words finally registered fully. “What do you mean, you’ve never done that before?” Surely he couldn’t have meant he’d never kissed anyone . Not with that face, that body.
    “That was my first time… kissing,” he confirmed.
    “You’ve never had a girlfriend?” I was starting to become irrationally hopeful I’d somehow met the only boy alive less experienced than myself, and he was gorgeous to boot. Miracles happened,