Page 76 of One Small Spark
Running my fingertips along her scalp, I cup the back of her head. “I was awfully clear with my signals when we kissed the other day.”
Her hands find my chest, her fingers dancing over the fabric. “It’s a big leap to make, though. Enemies to lovers.”
I hover over her mouth. “I was never your enemy.”
She tilts her face up, straining to get to me without actually moving closer. “You’re a big fan of torture, aren’t you?”
“I’m a big fan of taking my time.”
I trail my fingers from her hair, down behind her ear until they graze along the slope of her neck. Her skin is so unbearably soft, I’m afraid my calloused hands will leave marks. I’ll just have to be sure I’m extra gentle.
She shivers beneath me, so warm she’s practically burning up. One of her hands drifts from my chest down to my waist, lightly flexing to tug me closer.
“Please kiss me.” The barest whisper.
I lean in until my mouth is almost on hers, my fingertips skimming over her skin. “What kind of bird do I have tattooed on my arm?”
Her blue eyes flash, her gaze darting between each of mine. Her mouth parts, and I feel her intake of breath as much as hear it. For three long seconds, I expect her to argue with me again and run off into the night.
But she relaxes in my arms. “A wren.”
I nod slowly, that sweet, soft word exactly what I needed to hear. “That’s right. Wren.”
Everything I’ve longed for is voiced in that single syllable. Her eyes widen as if she heard it, too, but then my mouth is on hers. Claiming as surely as I’m surrendering.
If our first kiss was a frenzied dare, this is an unhurried promise. There’s no rush. No fear of getting caught or coming to our senses. Our kisses soothe the ragged uncertainty I’ve been drowning in, bringing me back to the surface for air. We’re both in this together.
She makes soft little sounds, and I swallow each one down. Her hands slowly trek over my shoulder and waist, mapping my body in tentative touches. With each kiss, her exploration grows bolder, more relaxed. Her fingers slip over the nape of my neck and into my hair, lightly tugging at the strands.
I want this kiss to be controlled and gentle, but she’s making me forget why. The sounds that groan out of me are anything but soft, and she smiles against my mouth. Triumph all you want, kitten. I have no problem falling to my knees for you.
Eventually, we draw apart with tandem sighs. I press my forehead to hers, my hands smoothing over her back and down her arms. I know she needs to leave soon, but I won’t be the one to suggest it.
“Are you sure the cold tub doesn’t work?” she says.
I rumble a low laugh. “Very sure.”
“I guess I should go before…”
She doesn’t fill in that blank, but my imagination is more than up for the task. “Probably a good idea.”
I slowly move out of her space, reluctantly releasing every point of contact. She’s gorgeous like this, a little dazed and kiss-drunk in my house. She’s breathtaking when she’s wild and angry, too, so it’s likely I’m a poor judge. I have Wren-blindness and find her achingly pretty no matter the context.
“Text me when you get home,” I tell her.
She nods like my worry bordering on overprotectiveness is a given now. “Goodnight, Shepherd.”
That deserves another kiss. I dart in close to press my mouth to hers in thanks. Praise. Adoration. Everything. I want to hear her say my name at all times, in all ways.
“Goodnight, Wren.”
TWENTY-TWO
WREN
How soon is too soonto show up at someone’s house? Let’s pretend you have a vague but blanket invitation that you’ve thoroughly abused already. Do you go every night the way you want to and reveal just how ridiculously obsessed you are? Or do you play it cool like a normal person and give it a day or two?
I opted to behave like a normal person. I’m really not suited for it.
