Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors (The Rajes #1)(126)

It was learning, gathering, opening up.

Even the way he pulled away was a connection, different from anything she’d ever known. His hands cradled her face, his breath continued to caress her lips, his chest rose and fell against her heart.

“Could you ask me that again?” she said, her entire body pressed tight against his. “I don’t think I heard you.”

He laughed and lifted her up and onto the railing. Where he did ask her again, and again until she was gasping desperate sounds into his mouth, sounds that she couldn’t seem to control from getting louder and louder.

“Your family,” he whispered.

“Who?”

Holy hell, her entire family was here.

He laughed again. She loved his laugh. She wanted to rub it all over herself.

“Do you have work to finish?” she asked.

“Nope, it’s all taken care of. I wanted to make sure we weren’t interrupted.”

She looked over his shoulder. “Ambitious plan.”

“I couldn’t find you anywhere else.”

“You looked for me?” He had looked for her?

His hand was on her nape again, his thumb stroking the one spot in her body that loved to gather tension. “All my life.”

She died a little. Because she knew what he meant.

He dropped a kiss at the very edge of her mouth. “I thought you were avoiding me because I’d turned you off so completely with how awful I was to you.”

Only one of her eyes was truly working but the sight of him was still overwhelming; those words he was saying made her want to pinch herself. Her hand stroked his chest. She couldn’t believe she was here, doing this. “It was all true what you said. Well, a lot of it was true. But if you feel differently now, I’m not going to argue with that.”

“I feel differently now.” The man could smile-frown like no one else.

“And I don’t.”

“Does that mean we can start afresh?”

“Please.”

He rested his forehead against hers, his entire body relaxing in relief. “So it would be all right to ask you if I could make you dinner sometime?”

She laughed a little desperately. “I’ll tell you now that you can get me to do almost anything if you feed me your food.” Her stomach felt as full as her heart. Just thinking about the food today made her woozy with wanting. Then again, his hand was moving down her spine, so it might not be the food.

His head leaned back. He was laughing again, and that chin of his, with that evil dimple, was a whisper away from her lips. She was about to kiss it when he met her gaze. “If we’re going to give this a go, you’re going to have to promise me something.”

“That I only can eat food that you cook?” She reached out and touched his chin and he shivered, his pupils dilating in the sexiest way.

“That can be arranged. But what I was trying to say is that you have to understand that we aren’t camels, Trisher. We can’t eat two days’ worth of food in one meal.”

She nodded, a little distracted by his chin. “Not camels. Got it. So are we giving this a go, then?” Yes, she imitated his accent, because it was just so much fun to do it.

He laughed again. She frickin’ loved making him laugh. “I’d very much like to give it a go.”

She touched his chin again, just the tip of her forefinger skimming the deep notch of his dimple. A responding pulse beat between her legs. A tightening in her innermost parts. All that from touching him this way. As if he were hers to touch.

He closed his eyes, dropping a curtain over the intensity, the hunger that had just burned in there. The hunger she had made burn.

She lifted that oversensitive finger and touched his lips. They were lush and wide and still a little swollen from being sucked on just a few moments ago. She traced back down to the dimple in his chin she couldn’t get enough of. He took a shuddering breath.

“Is it always so sensitive?”

He took moments to answer as though it cost him an effort. “It’s never been before.” Lifting her fingers, he kissed them, and then spoke against them. “It’s your hands, they’re magic.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. “I can’t believe I actually asked you if you knew what my hands were worth.”

There it was again, that laugh. Deep and husky and perfect. “If only I’d known.”

The lights inside dimmed and they both threw a look at the French doors beyond which real life waited.

She wasn’t ready to leave the balcony. “I believe we have two problems. One, I can’t see a damn thing. And two, I really am not in the mood to deal with the Animal Farm.” Because they were going to be extra weird about this, she just knew it.

“I certainly hope you’re not trying to tell me that your family turns into animals when midnight strikes. I mean, pumpkins I can handle, but . . .”

“It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in some other time. Right now I just want to get out of here.”

Without taking his hand off her waist—Yes, please, please don’t stop touching me, thank you—he leaned over the railing, which was weird to observe with one functioning eye.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Turn around.” He turned her around on the wide railing, her legs dangling in the air. “Stay there.”