The kiss was not dramatic. It wasn't punishing or angry or wild. It was small and soft and trembling at the edges, a gentle, timid press of lips that should have barely counted as a kiss at all. To anyone watching, it would have looked almost chaste, almost hesitant. But to Zane Reyes, it was like someone cracking open a sealed room and letting air rush in for the first time in months.
For half a heartbeat, he didn't react at all. His mind went blank, blown out by shock. This was the woman he had sworn to leave in peace, the woman he believed was another man's wife, another man's partner, another man's future. And she was on her toes, her mouth on his, offering him something he had spent ten months starving for.
It was a drop of water on the tongue of someone who had forgotten what it meant not to be thirsty.
