Page 224 of Legacy
Before I can decide, his hands are on my hips, hot, firm, grounding. His thumbs graze just under the hem where my underwear peeks out, and the touch sends a shiver slicing down my spine.
I freeze, caught between breath and surrender.
Then he lifts me.
Like it’s still five years ago.
Like the world never cracked open between then and now.
My breath catches as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, my legs around his waist, instinctive, helpless,wanting.
He places me on the cool counter, but he doesn’t move away.
Doesn’t speak.
Just stands there, body close, hands resting lightly on my knees like he’s holding himself back.
“You hungry?” he asks, voice low, rough.
My brows furrow.
“I don’t know.”
Idiot.
I want to scream at myself.
What the hell are you saying? That’s not alluring. That’s not sexy.
He’s standing between your legs, his shirt swallowing your body, his hands practically burning into your skin, and you don’t know if you’re hungry?
I glance up to see if he’s amused or confused, but he’s already stepped away.
My stomach sinks.
He opens the fridge, rummages for a second, and pulls out a clear container.
I squint.
Chocolate-covered strawberries.
He steps back between my legs, easy, like there isn’t electricity crackling between us, like he doesn’t know he’s setting me on fire just by existing.
He sets the container beside me, peeling it open, the scent of chocolate rich in the air.
I can’t breathe.
Not when he picks one up and holds it to my lips, the chocolate glossy, the red of the berry vivid against his fingers.
“Open,” he murmurs, brushing it gently across my lower lip. His eyes flick to mine, dark and soft all at once. “And don’t think I’m not going to kiss you after every single one.”
Ay Dios Mio.
My breath hitches.
I part my lips, and he feeds me the strawberry, his thumb brushing my lower lip as he pulls away.
The chocolate is sweet, melting on my tongue, the berry bright, tart, grounding.
