Page 17 of Bound to the Minotaur
I didn’t need another nudge.
I abandoned the second omelet, still sizzling in the pan, and stepped between her thighs. My hands found her waist, warm under the hem of my shirt, and I pulled her forward to the edge of the counter so we were flush—close. Her breath hitched; her thighs opened wider.
“You stay here,” I said, my voice low, the words vibrating against her skin as I leaned in. “As long as you desire.” Her eyes went wide at the worddesire,and her cheeks flushed a deep, beautiful pink. I could smell the change in her. Feel it in the spike of her pulse beneath my palms.
And, gods help me, my cock swelled at the sound of her gasp. So I kissed her. Hard. I crushed my mouth to hers and devoured the soft sound she made in surprise. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, and I stepped in fully, pressing every inch of my body against hers. She didn’t need to ask anymore. She didn’t need to test the waters.
I wanted her here. I needed her here. Come hell or high water, I was going to make damn sure she stayed.
I barely managed to reach back and twist the stove knob before the second omelet went from golden to scorched. The air was thick with the scent of breakfast, but all I could smell was her—Kess—ripe with need and perched on my counter in nothing but my shirt, the hem riding dangerously high over her thighs.
I stepped between her legs again, my hands already under the soft fabric, fingers skimming the curve of her hips before slipping lower. I found her wet—aching for me—and her breath hitched in a way that sent a tremor through my entire frame.
“I need you,” I warned, my voice all gravel and heat. She didn’t answer with words—just a soft, helpless sound in the back of her throat that had me shoving my boxers down, one hand braced on the counter beside her, the other guiding myself to her slick entrance.
I surged in, her body taking me deep, and she gasped my name like it burned her lungs. We didn’t speak, didn’t need to. This wasn’t slow or tender—this was fire and urgency, both of us greedy for closeness, desperate to quiet the world outside with the thunder of our bodies colliding.
She clung to me, thighs tight around my waist, nails scoring my shoulders through the fabric of my shirt. Her climax rippled through her with a soft cry, her walls gripping me like a vise, and I gave in with a growl, my own release crashing over me in hot, pulsing waves.
I buried my face in the curve of her neck and held her there, still joined, until the urgency faded and all that remained was the soft press of her against me. “You stay right here,” I murmured, not knowing if I meant for the day or for forever—just knowing that I needed her here.
Eventually, she slipped off to shower, and I cleaned up at the sink, splashing cool water over my face to ground myself. I was still toweling my hands dry when she returned, hair damp, eyes clearer but no less intense.
We finally ate—the omelets holding up better than I expected—and I watched her watch me as I devoured mine, added a salad, and then cleaned up the fruit bowl like I hadn’t eaten in a week. “What?” I asked, mouth full of apple.
She shook her head, smiling faintly. “You eat like a bear.” Amusement danced in the blue behind her glasses, a sparkle I was happy to see, and wanted to see more of, in fact.
I grunted. “Better a bear than a bull, huh?” Her smile faltered for a heartbeat, as if the joke had hit too close to something unspoken. I shouldn’t have said that, but now I was the one testing, seeing how far I could take her, testing how to convince her.
Yeah. We were going to have to talk soon. Just… not yet.
Chapter 12
Kess
I couldn’t believe what had happened, how different things were between us now. Gregory was still, well, Gregory. Often, a grunt was all the answer I got, or a glance, a very heated glance. But he smiled too, with a warm twinkle in his pretty brown eyes, and that made me feel all fuzzy inside, in a good way. Then there was the sex. The mind-blowing, amazing, utterly earth-shattering sex that had surely ruined me for anyone else.
The minotaur—the bull—had stepped out of my dreams and into the real world last night. First, he was just a fantasy, but he soon became all too real, and now I was addicted. I was pretty sure I was falling really hard for my caveman mechanic, who also happened to be a vegetarian and one hell of a chef, showing off a sensitive side of himself without an ounce of self-consciousness.
And he wanted me to stay. He’d carried me into his bedroom last night like I was precious. I’d never been with a man who held me in his arms all night, and I’d never felt as safe as I did with him. I was almost beginning to believe that my father had met his match in Gregory. And then reality struck: how could one man stand against someone like Romano—a man with nearly limitless resources, with weapons and assassins at his fingertips?
My hands felt stiff and clumsy as I pulled a plate from the drying rack. My mind was no longer on the comforting task of washing dishes side by side with someone, in a silence that had once been pleasant. It wasn’t pleasant now—just thinking of my father hadraised the fine hairs on the back of my neck and sent my pulse soaring.
We were finishing up the last of the dishes, Gregory’s big hands moving with surprising care as he set the plates aside to dry. The morning sunlight streamed in through the cabin windows, making everything look golden and calm. Too calm. It felt wrong, like the silence before a storm.
I wiped my hands on a dishtowel, my heart sinking even as he reached across the sink to press a kiss to my temple. Warmth flared in me—instinctual and aching—but it was quickly swallowed by something colder.
Fear.
No matter how safe he made me feel, no matter how strong his arms were or how steady his voice sounded when he said I was safe here… I knew better. He couldn’t protect me from my father. I turned to face him fully, the dishtowel clenched in my hands. “This was amazing,” I said softly, and it hurt to say the words like that—past tense. “But I should go now, before it’s too late.”
Gregory froze. Just for a second. But when he looked at me, all that warmth drained from his face. “No.” A single word: cool, implacable. A decree. I’d heard many of those throughout my life, but this wasn’t quite the same. This one felt like it came from a place of strong, deep-running emotion. When Gregory said it… my heart raced for a different reason.
“No?” I asked anyway, needing to understand. For a man who hadn’t even wanted to tell me his name that first night we’d met,he’d certainly had a big change of heart. He had acted like he couldn’t get me out of his home fast enough, and now he wanted me to stay, even while danger was looming—perhaps because of it.
His jaw ticked. “You’re not leaving.” There it was again—that order—and while he looked mad as hell, he didn’t make me feel scared. He made me feel loved, because he was mad that I didn’t want to let him protect me. He didn’t understand, and I had to make him see.
I took a breath, trying to keep my voice even. “I don’t want to go. God, I don’t. But he’s coming, Gregory. He’ll have tracked my phone. That’s how he operates. It was he who had my job offer pulled. He who messed with my brakes. He’s letting me run just far enough to make a point—and then he’s going to reel me back in. And if you’re still near me when he does—”
