Page 63 of Undisputed Chaos
I handed her a spoonful of the strawberry, and her eyes lit up, a tiny sound escaping when she tasted it.
Strawberry. Noted. My angel liked strawberries—detail filed away for a lifetime of spoiling her rotten.
Isla’sgaze flickered to my chest, to where my tattoos snaked under my collar. Her cheeks pinkened, her tongue darting out to catch a drip of ice cream from her bottom lip.
The sight made my dick twitch, hard and sudden, my body forever quick to respond to the tiniest cue from her.
I dug a spoon into mint chip this time and watched her every micro-expression—the little hum when the cream hit her tongue, the spoon twirling in her mouth, the way she bit down on her bottom lip like she was already thinking of something wicked to do with it.
"So," she purred, licking her spoon slowly, and I flat-out leered. “What happens now?”
I considered her question, twirling my jade knife between my fingers. She watched the movement, eyes tracking the blade with curiosity.
"Now we eat ice cream," I announced. "And then I take you somewhere nice. Show you off a little." I grinned at her blush, spinning my knife. “We’ll see where the night takes us."
Based on Connor’s and Jax’s verykindadvice, I was gonna figure out a real date for my angel.
She blushed and played with a lock of her hair. "Just like that? We're... together?"
That question settled differently. I set down my ice cream and turned, hand in hers, scanning her face like I was afraid to miss one single new color.
“Isla, I’ve watched for you. Hunted you. There’s nothing ‘just like that’ about any of this. But yes," I said, squeezing her fingers, "we're together. Unless you have objections?"
She shook that pretty head, earnest and shining. “No objections.”
My chest felt too tight, so I kissed her temple, breathing her in, needing to hear that affirmation again and again. "Good. Because I couldn’t let you go if I tried.”
The truth of it hit me as I said it. This wasn't just desire or obsession. This was something deeper, something that had hooked into my chest and wouldn't let go.
I'd killed men for less important reasons than the way Isla looked at me right now.
I grabbed a spoonful of strawberry, the cold sweetness a sharp contrast to the heat simmering between us.
Isla's eyes flicked to mine, a playful glint sparking as I brought it to her lips.
Her mouth parted obediently, and I pressed the spoon against her tongue, watching as she savored the taste.
Without missing a beat, I leaned in, my tongue flicking out to enter her mouth, licking into her to steal a taste.
"You taste better than this," I teased, voice rough with desire.
Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink, but she didn't pull away. She reached for the spoon, scooping up some sherbet and bringing it to my mouth.
I opened for her, letting her feed me, my eyes locked on hers as the cold sweetness melted on my tongue.
When a drop escaped the corner of my mouth, she surprised me by leaning forward, her tongue flicking out to lick it.
"Look at you," I grinned, pulling her closer. "Learning fast."
The tension between us was electric, every touch charged with unspoken promises.
I unbuttoned my shirt slowly, watching her eyes widen as I revealed the rippling muscles beneath, the intricate tattoos that told my story.
The ink coiled around my body, the constellations mapping across my pectorals, arms, and torso.
"You can touch," I offered—more a plea, voice dropping to a growl. "They're all yours now, angel."
Her fingers reached out, tracing the lines of ink on my chest and abs, her touch light. I watched her face as she explored, memorizing the wonder in her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly in awe.
