Page 57 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
“Well, this has been inspiring, but I’d rather finish these bottles outside,” Brooke says, gathering her wine. “Your town square is so enchanting. I bet I could drink the fountain water and be full of magic.” Before she eases past Elias, Brooke meets my eye and winks. “By the way, I’ve been dabbling in a bit of witchcraft recently. Can’t let you have all the fun with magic. See ya ‘round, sis. Or not. Whatever.”
Noah hesitates, glaring daggers. Finally, he stands and snakes past Elias as well, but not before lowering his voice to say, “I doubt you’ll win anything, but if what Rain says is true and you are given an award, you better claim it in the Thoren name.”
“Her name is Rynn. Not Rain.” Elias crosses his arms.
Elias doesn’t stop the door from closing in his father’s face and immediately pulls the screen down. Toxic vibes explode from his aura and his taut muscles strain under his shirt.
“Lias …”
Quickly, he holds up a hand, still facing away. “Gimme a minute, please.”
His hands fist into a ball by his side, then relax. Clench, then release. I want to massage the tightness out of his body and soothe his soul. There are no words to erase his father’s damage. I think back on our moments together when he has been most at ease. Touch. Physical touch. Whenever he’s most relaxed, his body gravitates towards mine like a magnet, always skimming my hand or brushing my hair behind my ear.
So, I wait until he turns around. Like a bullet to the chest, I viscerally feel the pain reflected in his eyes. He’s hurting. My man. Patient in the face of ignorance. Strong even when torn down. Willing to be vulnerable. And he trusts me, relies on me to be his roots during a tornado, when the wind tries to whip him out of control.
“You’re shivering, Lias.”
“Only because you’re so hot, I’m cold in comparison.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha,” I deadpan.
I rise on my tiptoes and curl my hands around his neck. Nose to nose, forehead to forehead. I want to get this right. Need to show him I care, that I’m here, that I’m not going anywhere.
“You smell like pizza,” I mutter.
“Do you taste like pizza?”
Our lips meet, slow and steady. He does taste like scrumptious pizza.
It brings back a memory of when our science teacher awarded our class with a pizza party during midterms. He gave us each a chance to opt out if we did something embarrassing in front of our classmates. When it was Elias’s turn, he marched straight to me, a man on a mission, and swiped his thumb along the corner of my mouth. It came away with pizza sauce and he licked his finger clean, never looking away from me. The entire class had oooh’ed while my face had turned fiery hot.
I should’ve known then what I know now. Elias isn’t a fairytale prince with multiple fake facades. Nor a hero atop a pedestal awaiting praise. He’s just a man, both flawed and gifted, full of magic and imperfections, who looks at me like I’m the rising sun. And it’s my turn to make him feel as special.
When he stops our kiss and rests his forehead against mine, his entire mood has shifted. “You’re killing me, Sunflower. I need more of you. I’m selfish and may not survive this long game we’re playing.”
This time, the ravenous look he pins me with can’t be misinterpreted. He lifts me from my feet and I instantly wrap my legs around his waist. His pecs are hard against my breasts, a solid wall contrasting with my softness.
“Long game? You catapulted into my life only last week.”
“No, it’s been over ten years. Twelve, to be exact. A dozen long years of wanting this. Wanting you. But I need more.”
He carries me with ease across the shop, passing by the burgundy shadows cast along the shelves. Normally, I’d feel self-conscious if a man were to lift me, but with him, I only feel safe. Hell, I could live in these arms if he let me. Burrow deep against his chest forever.
“Tell me what you want,” I whisper.
When his lips find the side of my neck, I think I’ve learned his favorite spot.
“I want to hear you call out my name when you shatter from my touch.”
“Oh.” A strong quiver travels along my inner thighs, and I clench the muscles where I long for him. I let my lips wander on his neck for a change. “It seems as if I drive you a little wild, hm? What about me undoes your sanity?”
“Everything.” The deep sounds resemble a low purring when I lick behind his ear, then nibble a bit and let my teeth graze. “Mmmm,” he growls. “Where do you want me to touch you?”
“Everywhere.”
He groans, then hurries up the rest of the stairs like a rocket. A squeal flies from my lips as I’m briefly airborne and dropped onto something soft. My mattress.
Standing above me, Elias looks like a desperate man ready to pray or kill. Am I a woman here to be worshiped or annihilated?
