Page 63 of Cold as Stone
15
KYA
Four days into Lee’s campaign to drive me insane, I’m ready to throw in the towel.
He’s on my couch, takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, looking completely at home in my space. He’s changed out of his cut into gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt that clings to every muscle.
If men had a slutty clothing equivalent, this would be it.
“You’re staring,” he says without looking up from his lo mein.
“I’m appreciating,” I correct, taking another bite of my orange chicken.
“There’s a difference?” He glances up, that dangerous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “And what exactly are you appreciating?”
The way your shirt stretches across your chest. The way your throat moves when you swallow. The way you’ve been slowly, methodically driving me out of my mind for four straight days…
“Your chopstick skills,” I lie.
He snorts. “Really? That’s the bet you can come up with?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Uh-huh.” He sets down his container and shifts on the couch, angling his body toward mine. “Come here.”
“I’m perfectly fine where I am, thank you.”
“Kya.” His voice drops to that low, commanding tone that makes my stomach flip. “Come here.”
I should resist. I should stay exactly where I am, finish my dinner, and then go straight to bed. Instead, I find myself setting down my food and sliding across the couch until I’m close enough to feel his body heat.
“That’s better,” he murmurs, his arm coming around me to pull me against his side.
I fit perfectly there, my head on his shoulder, my hand resting on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat under my palm, steady and strong, and it takes everything I have not to trail my fingers lower.
“How was your day?” he asks, his fingers playing with my hair.
“Quiet. A few regulars, some paperwork. Nothing exciting.” I tilt my head to look at him. “What about you? More club stuff?”
His expression darkens slightly. “Just keeping an eye on things. Making sure Summit doesn’t try anything else.”
“They’ve been quiet since that text.”
“For now.” His fingers tighten in my hair, just enough to make me shiver. “But quiet doesn’t mean gone.”
I don’t want to think about Summit right now. I don’t want to think about threats or danger or anything that exists outside this moment, with Lee’s arm around me and his fingers in my hair.
“Lee?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“How glad?”
Our kiss is soft at first, but it quickly heats up. I lose myself in the feel of his mouth, the way his tongue slides against mine, the soft sound he makes when I thread my fingers through his hair. This is what I’ve been craving for days, this connection, this heat, this feeling like I might actually die if he stops touching me.
His hands are everywhere—my face, my hair, sliding down to grip my waist and pull me closer. I end up in his lap somehow, straddling his thighs, my chest pressed against his as we kiss like we’re drowning and this is our only source of air.
