Page 20 of Wren's Winter

An embarrassing heat flooded my face. Swallowing down the sensation, I straightened my shoulders. “I need to go back to my table.”

“Aw, playing hard to get. I like that in a woman.”

That was enough. Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared at him. “And you’re playing hard to get rid of. Move your arm. Now.”

“No need to be like that. I’m trying to get to know you.”

“She said move, Jarrod.” Adrian appeared on the other side of me.

Jarrod’s pale face turned red at the sight. “Well, hey, Winter. We were just chatting. Weren’t we, beautiful?”

I didn’t respond, instead glaring at him.

Adrian pushed Jarrod’s hand off the rail and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him. His arm laced around my waist as he bent down to press a kiss to the top of my head. “Come on, Birdie.”

I knew it was more show for this guy than anything, but damn if I didn’t fit right into the crook of his arm. Wrapping my arms around his middle, I leaned into him as he walked me away. He smelled so good. That warm fire and spice scent I would now always associate with him.

Once settled at the table, Adrian moved his seat until his knees were bumping against mine. He was slightly facing Jarrod, a scowl on his face. I took a small sip of the beer in front of me. “Took you long enough.”

He grimaced. “At first, I was seeing what you’d do. I wasn’t sure if you were interested in Jarrod over there.” He tapped a finger on his lips. I watched the motion. His lips were soft. I bet they would feel nice under my fingertips. They sure felt good on my head.

I glanced at the man behind me, his shoulders slumped over his now empty beer glass. “Uh, no. I’m not.”

“He’s not normally a bad guy.”

“Does he really seem like the kind of guy I’d be interested in?” I asked.

“I don’t know what kind of guy you’re interested in. I don’t know you.”

Blinking a few times, I let his words soak in. He was right; he didn’t know me. Hell, I didn’t know myself.

“You didn’t have to turn him down on account of me.”

His blue-green eyes bore deep as he frowned down at me.

“Didn’t I?” The words came out softer than I planned. His eyes flickered down at my lips, and a heavy sensation formed in my gut as I leaned closer. “I spent years with a guy exactly like that. I don’t want that guy.”

“I don’t think you know what you want.” His body closer now, the heat of him through that gray henley shirt radiated toward me. My hand twitched at the impulse to rest on his chest.

“I know exactly what I want.” I let out a shuddering gasp, realizing that I was getting too close to crossing a line. “But what I want and what I need are two very different things. And despite what my best friend was urging me to do, a one-night stand is not at all what I need.”

He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing my jaw. As he leaned forward, I thought he might kiss me, but his face bypassed mine. His lips skimmed over my ear, his words quiet and hot on my skin. “Aren’t you a good girl?”

My knees were weak, and I fought the urge to grab his arms for stability. He leaned back. I grabbed my beer, taking a large swallow. If I focused on the beer and didn’t look at him, maybe I could stop myself from jumping him in the middle of this dive bar.

We took identical sips of our beers, our movements mirroring each other. A smirk ticked up on the corner of Adrian’s mouth as he lowered his glass to the table. A small piece of foam clung to the left corner of his lip.

“You have a little—” I motioned to his mouth.

His pink tongue darted out, swiping at the foam but missing a bit.

“No, here.” I leaned forward, swiping at his lips with the pad of my thumb. His lips were soft velvet, his day-old beard bristly. As I drew my hand back, he caught my wrist.

With his eyes not leaving mine, he brought my thumb into his mouth, licking the speck of foam off my thumb with his tongue. His teeth scraped against my skin, sending heat down my arm and straight to my core. Would this be how he felt if he kissed me? He sucked my thumb harder into his mouth, circling over it. An image of him kissing a whole other part of my body rushed into my mind.

Around us, the bar was filling up, sounds of laughter and stories. The door would open, bringing in gusts of frozen air around everyone’s ankles. All that fell away as he stared at me, his tongue moving over the pad of my thumb and sparks of awareness lighting on my clit.

It was my thumb, not my breasts or between my legs. It shouldn’t have been erotic, but the slow languid strokes of his tongue, the way his gaze never left mine, made me want more. Pulling my hand out of his mouth, he pressed a small kiss to my thumb before giving it back to me.

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