About Kismet

33

Kismet froze as she heard Wesley's voice and Daniel shook his head at her playfully, stepping away from her.

Wesley took that time to drink in the sight of her from the back.

Her light brown hair fell down her back like a waterfall, contrasting against the black of her coat. His eyes trailed down her jean clad legs, stifling a smile at the hot pink and white tie die socks she wore.

Kismet spun around to face him, hearing Daniel's chuckle and his receding footsteps.

Wesley sucked in a breath, his gaze travelling over her face, admiring her features before dragging down the rest of her body. Her toned abdomen was on display in the cropped sweater, and he was tempted to touch the bare skin to see if it was as soft as he remembered.

Kismet checked him out unabashedly in return, her eyes greedily taking in the cashmere sweater he wore casually with slacks. She could see the hem of a white shirt underneath the sweater, it's collar slightly visible under the neckline. She was itching to adjust it.

Wesley rolled his lips into his mouth as he watched her watch him, standing still like a statue at the museum to be admired by her wandering eyes.

When she finally made eye contact with him, her cheeks stained with a light blush and he smiled.

"Well?" he prodded teasingly, and she flushed further.

"Shut up," she retorted childishly, walking up to him instead. He opened his arms to invite her in, wrapping them around her tightly as he bent his neck to breathe her in.

Her own arms wrapped around him for a moment, relishing in the warmth and comfort he provided, before pulling away.

Wesley didn't let her pull away completely, dropping his hands lower to rest on her waist. She glanced up at him, her eyes flitting from his eyes to his mouth and then his neck, remembering the untidy shirt.

She took a step closer to him, raising her hands to adjust the collar. She was muttering to herself as she did, tugging at it and then shoving it under his sweater.

His neck where her nails had scratched him, even barely, was tinged red. She rubbed an innocent thumb over the skin of his neck, grazing his adam's apple which bobbed as he swallowed.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I think I irritated your skin," she muttered, leaning her head up to kiss his cheek in apology.

Of all of her habits, Wesley found this one among the most endearing. She had grown accustomed through culture to greet with a kiss on each cheek, thus making her much more comfortable than others to easily peck someone on the cheek in greeting, happiness, or apology.

He wanted to reply to her, maybe tug her closer, but she was already pulling away from him. And he was letting her, only because he didn't have a choice—his mind had gone into auto mode.

She shrugged off her jacket to hang on the coat rack, turning to make sure Wesley was following behind her, before she made her way into the living room.

The women in the lounge turned to look at the two entrees knowingly, sharing smiles among each other.

"Took you long enough," Anna commented playfully, getting up to greet Wesley.

The two exchanged a quick hug as Kismet walked over to the couch, finding her seat next to Faye who invited her with a pat on the spot beside her.

Just as she took a seat, Daniel walked in, calling them for dinner. "Coops gonna be pissed if you guys don't get seated at the table," he warned.

Kismet hurriedly stood up, helping Faye as well, making her way into the dining area behind the petite, pregnant lady.