Page 19 of Love at First Slice
Love.Yeah… that’s what this felt like.Love at first sight.I could only imagine theI told you soI’d get from my mom and the incredulous look I’d get from Connie and Pru.
“What’s that look about?” he asked. I shook the thoughts away and focused on him. Not that it was a hardship by any means. Mark’s arm draped over my shoulder, his fingertips stroking my shoulder and the top of my arm, warming me up more than the fire in front of us ever could. His warm dark eyes bore into me; curiosity and something that matched what I felt stared right back at me.
And something came over me.
Suddenly, life felt short. I’d spent a lifetime doing the right thing. Figuring out who I was and wasn’t. I was almost thirty without anything to show for it. Well, mostly nothing to show for it.
Maybe this was what Rosie had been talking about?
Our twenties had almost flown right by us, and this overpowering need to grab the proverbial bull by the hornsrushed through me. Life needed to be lived, and Mark Cosecha was the one I wanted to live it with.
Without thinking, I took the plate from his hands even though it still had a couple of half-eaten treats left and set it on the side table in front of the firepit. His gaze was set on me, watching me closely, almost like he knew what I was up to as I returned my focus to him.
He hadn’t kissed me earlier, and we’d been interrupted twice. I needed him to do it now to really know if this was what I thought it was.You don’t buy a car without test driving it,my mom used to tell us, much to my dad’s dismay.
“What are you up to, little girl?” His lips twitched.Little girl.He’d called me that earlier. Why did I like that so much? Hearing him call me that made me want to crawl up on his lap and pepper kisses all over his stupidly handsome face.
But I couldn’t exactly do that.
Not when I was sure the girls probably kept sneaking peeks at us through the kitchen windows.Take a chance,a voice whispered in my ear. I wasn’t sure if it was mine or the voices of my best friends melded together, but I leaned closer. We’d been near one another—hell, he’d almost kissed me before he’d reached for our dessert—but this was the first time it was me initiating this closeness.
“Mark?”
“Hmm,” his deep voice rumbled, and I could have sworn I felt the vibrations dance through me, leaving a molten heat behind.
“Do you think we could get out of here?” I felt bold and empowered. There was something about the way he looked at me that made me feel powerful. Like a goddess.
“You want to come back to my place?” he asked, his brows narrowed slightly, like he wasn’t sure what to believe. My lips parted, and I nodded. Mark’s deep gaze dipped, and I could have sworn he made an animal-like growl. “Your wish is mycommand, little girl.” My breath hitched, and emotions swirled through me.
Little girl.I really liked how he called me that. A lot. It was hot. I swallowed hard. I felt like squirming in my seat, but instead, my hand rose between us and rested on his chest, just above his heart, and I leaned in for my very first kiss.
My eyes fluttered shut as my heart started to gallop against my rib cage. His masculine scent wrapped around me, and I felt his hand drop to the small of my back while the other one pulled me in closer. My mouth pressed against his, and I felt his big, strong body freeze for a millisecond before he kissed me back.
Soft.
Slow.
Completely worth the wait.
10.Mark
Icould still taste the sweetness of her lips in my mouth, and everything inside of me wanted more. To kiss her. Taste her skin. Sink in so deep, we wouldn’t know where she started and I ended.
I felt like a predator about to pounce on my sweet little prey with how I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I tracked her every step as she moved around my living room. My skin felt like it had been pulled tight over every square inch of my overheated body.
And my cock?
The fucker wouldn’t chill the hell out. He was hard and pressed against my thigh as if trying to escape. Especially with how good she looked in my house. Like she belonged there. I still couldn’t believe how easily everyone had let us leave Brewster’s house. Tabitha had packed each of us a to-go box of leftovers. No one blinked an eye when Abby let them know she was leaving her car there, either.
Could it be that whatever was happening between us was obvious to anyone who looked at us?
“This is a great piece,” she noted, her eyes on the painting in front of her. I glanced up and scratched the back of my neck.
“Thanks.” I swallowed. “My brother’s ex-girlfriend was an artist, and I bought that at her first show.” My eyes rose to Shelly’s painting of a desert scape.
“Was?” Abby asked, concern in her voice, and I tried not to wince.
“Is. Sorry.” I winced. “Wrong tense. She’s still alive and painting. Making a huge name for herself in New York, actually. But they’re no longer together.”
