Chapter 118 The James Of Lorraine

• Ronan tosses a slice of lime, which Connor effortlessly catches. Instead of giving it to me, allowing me to drown this bitterness in my mouth, he slides it between his teeth, flesh outward. And then he crouches down and leans forward to feed me the lime with his mouth. I would argue with him if I weren't afraid of vomiting from the tequila. Our lips brush as I bite, but I ignore it, savoring the sour juice as it bursts in my mouth.
• I sigh with relief, milking the slice until the last drop, until I can't take it anymore. I release it and wait for Connor to pull back. Only he doesn't. He lets the chewed fruit fall from his mouth and then brings my mouth to his to plant an unexpectedly sweet kiss on my lips. It doesn't last more than four seconds, but it feels like an eternity because it's been an eternity since I kissed someone. And I'm not exactly sure how I feel about Connor kissing me.
• "Thank you,"I say.