Rebound (Boomerang #2)(8)

I step in and take her into my arms. My fingers want to dig into her hips as I bend to kiss her. She feels so good. I don’t remember the last time a girl tested my control this way.

“Wait,” she says. Her hands flatten on my chest and she leans away. “I just want to look at you for another second.”

I nod. “Okay.” I expect her to do what I just did a moment ago—when I studied her body like a present I can’t wait to unwrap—but she looks into my eyes. Deep into them like she’s staring at a stirred pond, waiting for something that’s a little murky to come into focus.

Not what I expected—at all—but I make myself stay there and not look away. I need this night. I want her. So I don’t move.

People say eyes are the windows to the soul. I think they’re right, which is why I keep my windows locked and shuttered. Even though it’s only a second with her blue eyes on mine, maybe two, panic starts to spread inside my chest, a slow, searing burn.

I’m about to look away when Catwoman rolls on her toes and brushes her lips against mine, gentle, feather-light.

My body unlocks. I pull her against me and take what I’ve wanted since the minute I saw her.

Her lips are soft, her tongue softer, and she tastes like berries and cinnamon. She tastes so sweet. I draw her hips against me. She makes a small sound of surprise and pleasure, feeling how she affects me. Then her fingers dig into my lower back as she pushes even closer. Raw lust sweeps over me. I need more of her—now.

I pick her up and get her against the car. I taste her jaw, just beneath her ear, her neck, then I move lower, running my tongue over the perfect swell of her breasts. I brush my thumb over the tight bud I feel through warm leather. “You feel incredible.”

Her hand presses over mine, and she arches her back. “That feels so good, um . . . Zorro.”

Then she lets out a small giggle, and I can’t resist looking up. Her smile is gorgeous. I want to keep it there.

“Don Diego de la Vega, if you prefer.” I grin as I pull the car door open and sweep a hand inside. “My lady.”

She climbs into the Gallianos’ Murano.

Inside, she scoots to the far end of the bench seat, making room for me, but I grab her around the waist and tug her to the middle.

“Come here.” I kiss her as I get her legs to each side of me. Hooking my hands under her knees, I slide her close. As soon as we connect, she sucks in a breath, her fingers gripping hard into my shoulders. I hear myself let out a slow hiss as she molds to me.

“Yes,” she breathes. Her hand slides down to my belt, and the last of my self-control goes up in flames.

I lift her back against the seat and capture her mouth with mine, kissing her hard, then force myself to draw back for a second.

“Hold on. We missed a key step here.” I run my hands over her body again. “This needs to come off before I lose my mind.” I don’t feel a zipper or buttons, on her back, or her side, or her stomach. “Did this thing get sewn onto you?”

She laughs, and it’s that same crystal-clear sound. “Actually, yes.”

I peer at her. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. Yours comes off, though,” she says, tugging my Zorro peasant shirt off. My mask almost snags and comes off with it. I’m relieved it doesn’t. We’re both under a spell and our faces, our real selves, might break it.

I straighten my mask and study her costume, trying to figure out what I’m seeing in the darkness. I’m considering ripping the damn thing off her when I realize she’s gone quiet and still.

Her gaze is focused on my tattoo, which is lit by a shaft of moonlight streaming in through the rear window like it’s under a spotlight. I shift, searching for a patch of darkness, but she reaches up and stops me.

“This is beautiful,” she says.

Shit.

Her fingers are light as they run down the length of my shoulder. Barely a touch, but I almost jerk away.

“It’s nothing.” It comes out sounding rough. Not like myself. But I want this girl. I don’t want to get pulled into the past.

Catwoman blinks at me. “You don’t like it?”

“I got it as a reminder. Of a mistake.”

That line always shuts down any further questions. I lean down to kiss her, trying to get us back on track.

Catwoman’s touch on my shoulder grows firmer, keeping me back. “Mistakes are everything.”

“Look, can we—what?”

“Mistakes,” she says. “It’s how we learn. Did you learn from it? Because if you did, then you shouldn’t hide it from anyone.”

She must see something in my expression because she looks suddenly self-conscious.

“Sorry, I . . . I don’t mean to take this in a weird, deep direction. I just think it’s beautiful. And I think you should see it that way too, even if it reminds you of a mistake because that’s just really . . . real. And, sometimes, real is good, you know?”

I sit back against the seat, my mind blown.

Who is this girl?





Chapter 5



Alison


He pulls away from me, and I could kick myself for coming on too strong. I don’t want to derail this moment. I want it to go on and on.

I lean down to brush my lips over the beautiful, strange markings on his chiseled arm. They’re a little like the Escher painting of birds that become sky that become birds, but they’re falling, cascading down his arm and, I imagine, spilling down his back. I breathe in the scent of his aftershave—leather and cloves—and run my hands over his beautiful, solid body.