Bella's lips pressed eagerly to mine, warm and soft, filling the space between us with heat I could get lost in. But just as I leaned in deeper, she pulled back with a startled squeak. "Ouch!"
I blinked in confusion, loosening my hold on her waist. "What? Did I...bite you?" I asked, baffled because there was no way I could've made that kind of slip-up.
Bella shook her head rapidly, her cheeks puffing out in that adorably exaggerated way she did when she was about to complain about something trivial but serious to her.
"No! It wasn't that!" She pouted, rubbing her cheek with a theatrical wince. Her finger shot up, pointing accusingly at me as she said, "Your face scratched me!"
"My face scratched you?" I repeated feeling caught off guard for a second. Then, realisation dawned, and my hand went to my jaw, brushing over the rough stubble that had returned since morning. "Oh...The beard." I muttered, half amused, half apologetic.
