This man. I like him too much. He’s gruff and hard, but charming.
“How was your first date?” he asks as we leave, walking out into the velvet night glowing with orange lights.
“Really good,” I admit, and our eyes meet.
“They’ll all be good. All your firsts.”
And suddenly, I can’t breathe, despite us being out in the cool, fresh air. He hasn’t kissed me all evening, and although his protective hand is at my back, I need more.
“Where shall we go?” he asks casually. “There are bars.”
“Can we go home?” I blurt out.
He tilts his head. “You want…”
I need to touch him. There’s an energy shimmering between us that has to have an outlet soon or I might burst.
“To the house,” I say. I don’t even know what it’s called, and I don’t want to explain to him or to myself why that place feels like it’sours. Bethnal is gorgeous, but it’s his London territory. Here he’s a kingpin, through and through.
There, I think he’s Zane. And he’smine.
He tips my chin up with his forefinger and strokes his thumb across my lips. “Home.”
10
ZANE
I’m not ready for this evening to end. I never will be. So once we’rehome—fuck I like the sound of that—I suggest we have a drink. I take her into the lounge, which is a dark, luxurious room with touches of gold. It’s not really my thing, but it’s impressive and if Willow thinks this house is home, then it’s home for me. We sit with glasses of whiskey that neither of us drinks, and continue talking.
The special editions she’d stock, the paperbacks. The way she’d lay out the shelves and the books she’d choose—apparently photos of people on covers are utterly cringe. I had no idea. She’s midway through telling me about the fantasy series that she’d have hardback copies of, and how the romance will have a special section all its own, when she stops, almost mid-sentence.
She gets up and comes over to me, her expression unsure.
I swirl the whiskey in my glass and look up at her. “What are you doing, little bunny?”
“I was thinking,” she says, not quite bridging the gap between us. She looks reluctant and I nearly stop her, but instead wait as she decides, trying not to let it show how much I want her close. “I’m scared, but…”
“There’s nothing to be scared of when we’re together. I’ll protect you against everything.” This change of topic is confusing.
“Everything except you. I want…” She tails off, still so sweet and vulnerable and innocent and unsure.
“Tell me,” I command, drawing the word slowly.
“Something like what you did for me in the woods, but I’d do it for you.”
That steals my breath. Another hot, intense kiss? Her fingers around my cock? Her big eyes watching my face and her body pressed to mine, her hand between us as she makes me come.
Fuuuuccckkk so hot, even in my imagination.
“Are you going to chase me, little bunny?” I tease instead of pushing, but make space for her to stand between my feet. “Because the wolf can run away from the bunny, but that’s not usually how the game is played.”
That makes her smile, and my heart flip-flops. She’s cute and sexy. Her dark hair tumbles over her shoulders and that slinky white dress. My god, I can’t believe she was getting married only a few hours ago. The idea of anyone else touching her is enough to make jealous rage boil under my skin.
She runs her hand down my chest, over my shirt and as she leans in, I hold my breath. Is she going to initiate a first?
But do I not get a kiss? That’s my thought as she slides to her knees before me. Yeah, this beautiful girl on her knees and reaching for my belt, and I wish I had her on my lap and her lips on mine.
But then, we agreed firsts but no repeats, and perhaps she thinks that means she doesn’t have to kiss me again.
