Page 71 of Craving Carla

A soft smile tugs at my lips at his words. I really do like it when he says, “our children.” But that’s not something I’m ready to admit to him just yet.

Amari finally stands and sits next to me on the sofa. I yelp when he picks me up and places me right in his lap, his strong arms securing me against him. The way he looks at me is overwhelming—like I’m something precious, something to be cherished.

“What now?” I ask, not sure where we go from here.

Amari smiles, the expression transforming his face. “The first thing I want to do is get you the validation you need. You have every right to hold on to the belief that you’re not fated because you can’t feel the mate bond. But there’s someone who can confirm it and put this to rest once and for all.”

I groan, immediately understanding who he means. Amari grins wickedly, flashing his fangs at me. We both know he’s talking about King Amir.

“Amari, please,” I start, but he surprises me when he presses his lips to mine in a tender kiss.

His lips are softer than they look, gentle against mine as if he’s afraid I might break. His hand moves from my waist to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over my skin. The kiss deepens as he tilts his head, seeking better access. He doesn’t demand entrance—he asks for it, a light sweep of his tongue against the seam of my lips.

I part my lips for him, and he tangles his tongue with mine. He tastes sweet, with hints of mint and something darker, richer—just him. His pine scent mixes with his cologne, filling my senses completely. I breathe him in, wondering how someone who doesn’t need to breathe can smell so intoxicating.

I have to break away for air, my lungs burning. He doesn’t stop, just moves his lips to my cheek, kissing me tenderly, then to my jaw, my temple, the corner of my eye. Each touch of his lips feels like worship, like he’s memorizing me through touch.

He pulls back when my stomach growls loudly, the sound embarrassingly clear in the quiet room. I look down and placemy hands on my belly. “Oh,” I say, suddenly realizing how hungry I am.

Amari strokes my cheek, and the way he stares at me nearly takes my breath away. There’s such intensity in his gaze, like he’s seeing parts of me no one else has ever noticed.

“When is the last time you ate?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

“Last night at the diner,” I answer honestly, remembering the meal that had gone so terribly wrong.

Amari bares his fangs at me and hisses, the sound startling after the tenderness of our kiss. He lifts me off his lap and stands, heading into the kitchen. I watch as he goes through the fridge and cabinets, pulling out ingredients one by one.

I stand from the sofa and join him in the kitchen, smiling when he pulls out some pans and ground beef. The domesticity of the moment strikes me as absurd—this ancient, powerful vampire preparing to cook for me.

“You cook?” I question, raising an eyebrow.

He laughs, the sound rich and genuine, and starts to unbutton his shirt. I stare at him, watching as he moves from button to button, his fingers deft and sure. He slowly pulls the shirt off, revealing a white tank top underneath that does nothing to hide his muscular frame. He grins when he notices me gawking.

I catch myself when he chuckles, and I nervously clear my throat, holding my hand out for the shirt. I take it, turn around, and place it on the small lounge chair where his suit jacket rests, then come back. My eyes drift to his arms, the faint scars visible beneath his white tank top that fits him nicely.

“Yes, Carla. I’m fully aware of how to prepare a meal,” he grumbles, but there’s no real irritation in his voice.

I snap my mouth shut, grinning at him. He washes his hands, chops an onion, then lights the pilot and prepares the groundbeef, shaping two patties and seasoning them with spices I didn’t even know I had.

As he works, I get lost in thought. Just a few days ago, I was sitting at my desk in the station, patting Moria who was clutched at my chest, praying to Fate for love. When I saw Moria’s prayer was answered, I’d nearly lost hope. Then Ackley broke my heart when all I wanted was to feel wanted.

Now this magnificent, beautiful, charming, arrogant asshole of a vampire is in my kitchen, frying me a cheeseburger.

It’s difficult to wrap my head around. I’m excited, but I’m also terrified. Because Amari holds my heart, and he has the power to destroy me.

And I’m ready for the destruction. I’m going into the shadows anyway. After Ackley, that’s the best place for me to be, even if I truly am fated to this beautiful vampire.

25

Amari

Iscowl at Carla as she scarfs down her cheeseburger as if starving. I’m willing to take whatever Carla throws my way—she’s the most stubborn, strong-willed woman I’ve ever met—but I won’t tolerate her starving herself. I can’t stop the stupid smile that creeps across my face when she downs a glass of juice that I’ve poured for her. I stuff my hands in my pockets, wondering what’s next for us. I have my woman. She’s so strong yet so fragile at the same time.

I have to find Kemnebi and get him to show the children there’s more to me than just being a whore. When Tofi ran off instead of showing me what it would take to lift the veil, I knew I was in trouble. But one problem at a time.

When she’s finished, Carla tries to stand and clean up, but I quickly grab her plate and cup, taking them into the kitchen and washing them along with the pan. She’s quiet for a moment, then she finally stands, watching me. When I’m finished, I put the dishes and pans away and wipe the counters down, then turn off the kitchen light.

“You’re staying?” she questions, and I grin, approaching her and pulling her into my arms.

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