Page 189 of Tall, Royal Hater
It took nearly a minute of silent staring for his frown to ease up. He rested his forearms on the table and curled his hand around his mug. “Have you spoken to your parents? About leaving your job?”
I ran my tongue over my teeth as I set my fork down. “Yeah, I did. The day I got back.” I nudged my plate aside and dragged my mug of coffee closer. “They were really supportive. Told me to do whatever the heck makes me happy and encouraged me to email in my resignation without any worries. So, I did. The next day.”
The tension eased from his features, and a lightness filled his eyes. “See.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Easy to say when you’re not the one dealing with the problem.”
“I know.” He snuck his hand around my nape and tugged me closer. “That’s why I’m proud of you for taking yourself out of a situation you didn’t want to be in even though it felt hard at first. And whatever you choose to do next, I’ll support you however I can.”
Aye, aye, aye. What’s he doing? Why’s he doing that? Stop! Tell him to stop!
I stared dumbly at his gorgeous crook of a smile as my belly wagged about like the tail of an overexcited puppy, and there was nothing I could do to convince it to stop.
There was praise that satisfied my kink. And then there was the kind he’d just dished out. Not for any ulterior motive, just genuine, heartfelt encouragement. And insanely attractive still.
With a light caress of his thumb over my pounding pulse, Shehryar kissed my cheek. And then again, more heavily. The tickling scratch of his beard ghosted against my skin as he released me and sat back.
I was still for a second. Then my upper lip lifted in realisation.
He did not just waste his third kiss on my fucking cheek. This dickhead!
I’d waited so fucking patiently these last few days for him to kiss me on the mouth, and he bloody hadn’t. And I’d have to wait a whole twenty-four hours for another retry.
Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. I was done playing whatever stupid shy or cautious game he was playing.
I wanted a proper fucking kiss!
Without thinking, I shoved myself back and stood. His eyes followed me up as he angled his torso towards my approach. He had to have seen the intention in my eyes because he scooted his chair back, hand touching the side of my thigh, encouraging me closer.
I gripped his shoulders and straddled his lap, sinking close until our faces were barely an inch apart. His thick lashes dipped sleepily, but his gaze remained focused and steadfast as he wound his arms around my back, and I curled one arm tighter around his neck.
“What is this?” he asked, his timbre so low.
“This is me telling you that I’m pissed that you keep wasting kisses on my cheeks,” I answered, mapping the planes of his cheekbones and the specks of different shades of green in his pale irises.
“Wasting?” The corner of his mouth twitched as he massaged a firm hand up and down my upper back. “The way your eyes melt each time I kiss your cheek is not a waste, little menace.”
Warmth rose under my cheeks. I rubbed my teeth together, scowling but not really scowling. “It is a waste when you’re already limited to three and you use the last fucking two on my cheek, dickhead.”
“Maybe,” he offered. The weight of his gaze landed on my lips and stayed there for several seconds. “But you’ve asked me to stick to three, and I’d never force you or coerce you, but avoiding your lips is really the only way I can abide by your rule without making you think I’ve disregarded it entirely, only giving you further reason to mistrust me.”
I wasn’t pissed that he was listening to what I’d said. Not exactly.
It was hot as fuck that he couldn’t control himself around me. My heart pitter-pattered at his adorable admission of doing his best in the only way he knew how. After all the hate-filled insults between us, he was being a perfect gentleman, and the princess treatment was top tier.
What I was pissed about was wanting more and not getting it because of my own fucking rules. But then questioning wanting it because I was supposed to be angry with him.
As I mulled it over, stewing in my own indecision, a ringtone blasted out behind me, scaring the shit out of me. I flinched against Shehryar, and his arm tightened around me.
“Sorry,” he said, and pressed himself flush against me to grab his phone off the table.
I couldn’t quite catch the caller ID as he held his mobile by my shoulder, but from the stiffness of his expression, he felt uncomfortable with them ringing. Awkward even, in an unsure kind of way.
His eyes were on me as he answered and brought it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hi! Are you still with her?”
I was close enough to hear the quiet but cheerful voice of a girl on the other end of the line, and green, bitter-tasting ice crystalised in my chest.
