Warcross (Warcross #1)(70)
I search his eyes, trying my best to steady my heartbeat. “You are?”
“Perhaps I’ve been too subtle.”
Up until now, I’ve largely assumed that all of my interpretations of Hideo’s words have been exaggerated on my part, but it’s pretty hard to misunderstand this statement. He talks about you often enough, Kenn had said. I swallow hard, but don’t pull away. “About what?” I whisper.
Hideo’s lashes are lowered, and there is something sweet and uncertain in his gaze. He hesitates. Then he waves one hand in a subtle gesture, and a transparent screen appears in my view again.
Link with Hideo? it asks.
“Let me show you something,” he says. “It’s a new communication system I’ve been working on. A secure way for you to contact me.”
I look at the hovering window for a moment, then accept it. The edges of my vision flash clear blue. “What does it do?” I ask.
Send a thought to me, Emika.
It is Hideo’s own voice, soft and warm and deep, echoing inside my mind. A tingle of surprise rushes through me. When I look at him, he hasn’t opened his mouth at all, nor has he made any motion to type. It is telepathy through the NeuroLink, the next evolution of messaging, an intimate, secret bond linking us together. I startle at the novelty of it, then hesitantly send a thought back to him.
You’re in my mind?
Only if you allow it. You are free to disable our Link whenever you desire.
I can’t help smiling, caught between feeling unsettled and excited. It has been almost a decade since Hideo first created something that changed the world, and yet here he is, still doing it, year after year. I shake my head in disbelief.
This is incredible.
Hideo smiles, his dark mood lifting for a moment. I don’t think you realize how much I enjoy your company. So I want to let you in on a secret.
Suddenly, I realize that not only can I hear his words in my mind through our new Link . . . I can sense something. I can feel a hint of his emotions through the connection. Oh, I think back without even realizing it, my breath catching.
I can sense desire in him, a dense, smoldering heat. For me.
I’ve wanted to kiss you, Hideo thinks to me, leaning closer, since the night I saw you in that white dress.
Since the party at Sound Museum Vision. I’m suddenly very aware of my bare shoulder. The steady undercurrent of his emotions through our Link makes me light-headed, and I wonder if he can sense the same coming from me, the rapid, fluttering beat of my heart, the heat rushing through my veins. He must, because one side of his smile tilts higher.
I suddenly feel bold in this dim light and new bond, this space that has become all too warm. Well? I ask him.
Well. His gaze falls on my lips. Perhaps we should do something about that.
All I can think about is his nearness, his dark eyes, his breath stirring against my skin. There is a spark in his gaze now, that darkening of his eyes, something fiery and hungry, something that wants. He hesitates for an agonizing second. Then, his head tilts down toward me. The soft skin of his lips presses against mine, and before I can even register it, he’s kissing me.
My eyes flutter closed. He’s gentle at first, his emotions restrained and searching, one of his hands coming up to carefully cup my face. I lean into his touch, signaling to him that I want more, fantasizing about what he might do next. Can you sense what I want? As if in answer, a low groan of pleasure rumbles deep in his throat. Then he draws closer, pins me against the couch, and kisses me harder. The Link between us magnifies our emotions tenfold, and I fight for air, overwhelmed at the heat of his desire coursing through us—and my own responding passion rushing back to him. I can sense his thoughts, glimpses and glimmers of his hands against my skin, running along bare thighs. My entire body tingles. His hand buries in my hair, tilting my head up toward him. Through the fog of my thoughts, I realize that I’ve wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close, until every inch of my body is pressed against him. He feels so warm, the muscles of his arms and chest firm underneath his clothes. The sound of rain against glass continues quietly in the background.
Hideo pulls away for a brief second, his lips hovering right over mine. His breathing is soft and labored, his brows furrowed, the fire still alight in his gaze. His emotions crash against mine, roiling into one, and he is undone in this moment, the reserved, distant, proper version of him stripped away to reveal the part that is unthinking and savage. I am trembling from a storm of sensations, unsure what to focus on, wanting to drink it all in at the same time, struggling for the perfect words.
Okay, I end up gasping. You were definitely too subtle.
His secret smile returns. “I’ll make up for it,” he murmurs against my ear, and then he kisses me again. My teeth tug once, teasingly, on his lower lip. Hideo growls in surprise, and he pulls away from my mouth to kiss the line of my jaw. His lips work their way along my neck, sending shivers up and down my back. His warm hand has found its way inside my sweater, running up along my bare back, tracing the valley of my spine. I can feel the calluses at the base of his fingers, rough against my skin. A million thoughts flash through my mind. I arch toward him. Vaguely, I realize that I’ve slid down along the length of the couch, my head now on the armrest, and Hideo’s body is heavy against mine, pushing me down. His lips go from my neck to my collarbone, kissing along the line of my tattoo, to my bare shoulder.