8 Kissing Practice

The bellhops see us straight into the elevator, but inside, they just push the floor for us and step back out again, leaving us alone as the door slides shut. Robin turns to grin at me. "We should practice, you know. Before we have to perform for an audience."

I arch an eyebrow. "Practice what, exactly?"

His smile remains fixed in place, but there's something new in his eyes now, a spark that wasn't there before. A heat. "Kissing," he says, and before I can react, he's reaching up to cup my cheek and tilting my face toward his.

I've imagined this moment a hundred times before. But I never imagined it quite like this—how warm his palm would feel cupping my cheek, or how I would catch his scent beforehand for a second, a hint of smoke and spice. My eyes drop to his lips, and I have just enough time to let them flutter closed before his lips find mine. The kiss is soft at first. Hesitant. He kisses me like I'm delicate, breakable. But then I reach up to twine my arms around his neck and kiss him back. The moment I do, his free hand slides around my waist, pulling me against him, and his lips part as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past mine to claim me, completely. I can't help it. He tastes even better than I imagined, feels so much more real than I ever pictured.

All my fantasies, all my fanfiction stories, they pale in comparison to the reality of his warm, muscular body pressed against mine. This is Robin, I remind myself. This is really happening. It feels like I just wandered into a dream. His hand slides down my waist to my hip, his fingers digging into me through the fabric of my thin sundress.

I arch one leg around his, and I can feel the hard press of his abdomen against my belly. I moan into his mouth, unable to help it, because he feels so good.

The moment I do that, though, he pulls back, chuckling softly, those searing blue eyes of his fixed on me as he laughs. "Maybe you don't need any practice after all, Chunhua."

He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, one that escaped as we kissed. His hand lingers against my cheek. "You've got the horny newlywed act down perfect."

My cheeks flush bright red, and his grin deepens, like he knows exactly how wild he's driving me. But before I can respond, the elevator reaches our floor, and he takes my hand to lead me out of it, down the hallway, toward the suite that we're sharing.

My heart races in my chest, my whole body still tingling. It feels like my lips are on fire from his kiss, my hips still seared by his touch. I can't help it. I risk a glance down at my fingers, where the ring he gave me sits, right where it would if this were all real.

If he really were my husband. I decide that, just for this weekend, it will be all right to let myself believe it. I know it will only make everything harder once this is over and we're back at the office once this fantasy inevitably ends. But… I can't shake the look in his eyes when he kissed me, either. So I decide, just for the weekend, I'll throw caution to the wind.

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The first thing that catches my eye when we cross into our room is the welcome note the hotel staff left on our bed. There's a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice on a stand beside the bed, and in front of it, a short letter welcoming "Mr. and Mrs. Wang."

Just the sight of those words, a casual listing of me with his last name, like it's normal, like we're greeted that way every day, sends a thrill through me. How many times have I written fanfiction where that happened? How many times have I daydreamed about how good Chunhua Wang sounds? My whole body tingles. Especially when I glance up at the rest of the room, with its huge windows overlooking the grounds below, a balcony outside, and a jacuzzi-style hot tub in our enormous en suite bathroom.

"Did you actually book the honeymoon suite?" I ask, grinning.

"Of course." Robin winks and steps closer to me, his gaze fixed on mine, that hungry expression in his eye again. "In a way, this weekend is like our honeymoon, isn't it?"

I force a laugh, because I hope it will disguise the fact that my heart is racing, my pulse pounding.

"Our pretend one, of course."

But I can't keep my voice even, or my eyes off his lips. All I can think about is how he tasted when he kissed me in the elevator. How he'd taste if he kissed me again, right here, right now.

When I glance back up at his eyes, forcing myself to stop staring at his mouth, I notice his gaze doing the same thing. Jumping back to my face as if he wasn't just checking out my lips, my body. My cheeks flush with heat, but he's already turning away to survey the room. I do the same, walking across to the balcony and sliding open the doors.