Perfectly Imperfect(34)

Alli and Rob have been playing PlayStation in the media room—yeah, actually, it’s more like a mini movie theater that takes up the entire third floor. Complete with a candy vending machine, soda dispenser, and popcorn maker. Last I saw Kirby, she had been enjoying it just as much as her family, but if I know her, she’s dying to hunt me down and question me about what happened on the way here.

I’ve been in the kitchen baking things I have no intention of eating. Taking full advantage of the fully stocked fridge and pantry, I replay every second of my encounter with Kane. Cooking out my thoughts and trying to convince myself that I haven’t lost my ever-loving mind when I agreed to explore this … bond Kane and I seem to have linking us together.

My stomach rumbles when I place the last of the chocolate chip cookies on the cooling rack. I look down, and with a sigh, I stuff one of the warm cookies into my mouth. I let out a deep moan around the sweetness that explodes in my mouth and start to lick the chocolate off my fingers.

Heaven.

“Fuck me,” I hear mumbled harshly and snap my head over to the doorway and the intruding voice.

“Crap,” I muffle through a full mouth of sugary heaven. I had been so lost in the first taste of sweets I’ve had in a long time that I didn’t even notice I wasn’t alone anymore. Finishing the bite too quickly to enjoy and wiping my mouth with a discarded towel, I look over at the man filling the room with the thickness his heated gaze is causing. “You’re going to give me a heart attack,” I snap, more embarrassed at being caught mouth raping a cookie than I am at the man himself.

He reaches down and I watch in shock as he presses his hand against the crotch of his jeans before adjusting himself. Does this man have no shame?

“That noise. Shit, Willow, that noise.”

“Yes, well … I’m sorry, but it was a really good cookie,” I lamely tell him.

“Yeah, I’m sure it was,” he purrs and moves toward me.

“How did you get in here?” I question, my mind clearing long enough to form some sort of coherency.

“With my key,” he answers with a devilish smile.

“You have a key? To our house?”

“I would hope so since I own it.”

Do what? “You own this house?” Well, that would explain the grandeur around me. “So why are we here and you aren’t?” I evade his advancement and back up a step when he takes another toward me.

“Because.” He doesn’t continue, but his smile widens.

“Because ...?” I implore. Crap, I can smell him—that delicious cologne he wears—and I swear my body hums with arousal.

“Why are you in here cooking?” he asks, ignoring me when I back up again, butting into the counter behind me.

“Because,” I smart, and even with my nerves spiking by just being near him, I’m enjoying this little game.

“Fair enough, Ms. Tate, fair enough.”

“You’re a confusing man.”

His eyes twinkle with mischief as he walks further into my personal space. His eyes study my face, my body, and then my face some more. I resist the urge to pull at my top when his eyes travel the length of me.

Barely.

“You missed some,” he oddly says, but before I can comprehend what his words mean, his head is lowering and his mouth is on mine.

Teasing.

Exploring.

Feasting.

Oh. My. God.

The shock of his lips against mine, soft and warm, holds me still, but my heart picks up and panic starts to invade.

He pulls back, licking his lips, and the fire in his eyes burn into mine.

“Delicious,” he whispers, then turns to grab a cookie off the cooling rack and leans against the counter.

“Is this you trying?” I ask, giving in to the urge to lick my lips, tasting him again on my tongue.

“No, this is me taking,” he retorts, and with a smirk, he takes a huge bite of the cookie. When I don’t respond, he continues to study me … study my reaction to his kiss.

Okay, Willow. You want this. You promised yourself you would be better, honest, and try. So … do it.

“You’re terrifying.” There … that wasn’t so bad.

His smirk dies. He drops what’s left of his cookie on the island, and he opens his mouth.

“Willow?” I hear Kirby call, cutting off his response. I look around the room frantically as her footfalls get closer.

Crap.

“I don’t want to scare you,” he tells me honestly, ignoring Kirby’s advancement.

“Wills?” Kirby’s calls out again, her voice closer this time, and my eyes widen. My shocked and somewhat panicked brown eyes meet his calm and assessing ice blue ones.

Searching and questioning me with just a glance.

God, he confuses me.

“Trying to find somewhere to stuff me?” He laughs. Stepping away from me slightly, he grabs his discarded cookie and swallows the rest in one bite.

I shift, trying to ease the throbbing between my legs as his tongue comes out to lick his lips.

“No,” I deny. “Okay, maybe.”

He throws his head back and laughs. The heavy energy flooding the room just seconds before starts to dissipate some. I watch his throat work as his hilarity reverberates around us. God, he’s beautiful.