Only this little ball of sunshine doesn’t seem ready to run at all. I watch her round my kitchen to grab some things as if she’s done this before. Sailing past me, she heads for the oak table I carved myself. For some reason, I grow nervous. We know nothing about each other and yet, I want her to approve of the table. I made it with my wrecked hands as a form of self-punishment.
“You made this, didn’t you,” she tells me more than asks, sitting down right beside my usual seat. Again, as if we’ve done this dance before.
“Yeah, I did. Built most of the furniture. One worthwhile thing.”
“It is beautiful,” she hums, sliding her hands over the top. Once again, I am assaulted by visions of me pinning those hands down on the table as I pound into her, bending her soft curves over the oak. “It’s awful big for you. I don’t imagine you host dinner parties up here, do you, caveman?”
I take the seat beside her with a grin. “No, no, I don’t. I did not actually expect this one.” I love the way she flushes when shecatches me watching her. I'm not a fool; I’m not turning down a home-cooked meal from a woman this beautiful.
She dishes out two massive portions of lasagna, then shoots me a look that saysbite your tongue.I stay quiet, letting her slide the plate my way. I hesitate for a beat before I start eating. I haven't had anyone in my space for years, and usually, that's exactly how I like it.
“Sit, eat. Tell me why you came here to hide,” she urges before she takes a hearty bite of the dish.
“Kind of heavy talk for our first meal together,” I declare as I take a bite of the steaming dish. I drop my fork with a clatter. Because it might be the best bite of food I’ve ever had in my mouth. Basil, garlic, and a good dose of ricotta. I can’t help the groan of satisfaction that rumbles out of me.
“Is that a happy growl or an angry one?” Rain wonders, fork paused halfway towards her mouth. Before I answer, she takes the bite, closing her pretty, lush mouth around the pasta. Another groan rumbles forth.
“Happy ones,” I tell her, ducking my head as a flush heats my face. Am I fucking blushing? Whoam Iright now?
“Good to know,” she teases with a tiny smile. Her head tilts and she just watches me for a moment. I can’t miss the way the apples of her cheeks pink before she speaks. “What do the others sound like, I wonder?”
I choke on a bite of saucy lasagna. “Jesus, princess. Were you sent here to test me?”
Rain cocks her head, glossy waves falling like a curtain across her face. When she looks up, everything goes still. Silent. Staring. Static. Her gaze scans over me, and I brace for the impact as it settles on my scars. Only, the blow never lands. The look in her eyes doesn’t shift to pity; it doesn't sour into disgust. Rain’s steady stare never changes or loses its heat.
“Or did I findyouto testme? Good questions.”
I am not sure how but I choke down that bite of food. I can’t look at her after she says shit like that. My gaze circles the room as I struggle to find my barriers. My walls. Ones I built with damaged hands to keep the rest of the world out. They’re high and thick to make sure I never know the pain I did that day on the rig.
There is something about her that makes those walls fade. They don’t go away, they don’t come down all at once. As we sit there though, they don’t seem as high or as solid as before she brought a meal and a smile to my cabin. I start to relax with her, enjoying her presence, the softness of her sweet scent, and the warmth of her. Then those pretty blue eyes, the color of a wild ocean wave crashing down, pin me down.
“Still waiting for your stories, caveman. I came to listen.”
I shoot her a look as I push the plate back. “I never agreed to tell stories. Were you expecting stories as some form of payment for a good meal?” I accuse playfully, cocking my head at her.
Rain’s eyes flicker with heat before they dart away. I want them back on me. I want her to give me that playful smile, I want her to look at me the way she did when she wondered if we met as some kind of test. I am definitely being tested. Because all I want to do is pull her to me, press her soft curves to my hard body, and kiss the shit out of her.
Her gaze meets mine again. Before I realize what is happening, she moves. Suddenly she is climbing over me, long, thick legs dropping on either side of my hips to straddle me. Her soft tits press to my chest as she wraps her entire body around me. I am quick to get on board, wrapping my arms around her waist to haul her even closer.
I meet her halfway as she dips her head and seals her mouth to mine. There is a faint hint of basil on her lips as her tongue pushes into my mouth, but I taste her beneath it. Sweetness unlike anything I’ve ever tasted. My hands slid beneath her topand I savor her gasp as my rough hands touch her silken skin. Her hips circle a little, and she wins another groan out of me.
“Hmm, I like that one best,” she hums against my mouth as she repeats the figure eight move, making my cock jerk between us.
Fuck me. I tangle my fist in her hair to pull her back, devouring her sweet mouth in a brutal kiss. My other hand slips to her front, moving up to circle her throat. Just as I think it might be too much, she moans. Rain fucking moans the hottest, rawest sound I have ever heard as my fingers close around her throat. Her hips circle again, drawing out another groan.
“Fuck. What’re you doing to me?”
“Can’t say I know what I am doing,” she whispers, her fingers tangling in my mussed hair. “All I can say is how good it feels,” she rasps, pulling me back to kiss me again.
Her tongue is wicked, licking my mouth, then pushing inside again. Our tongues battle for a moment, my fingers tightening on her throat. When her pulse thrums faster, harder, I feel it beneath my fingertips. My other hand gives a tug at her throat and she whimpers, going back to twisting her hips to drive me crazy.
I take in every single thing about this moment. The smell of her skin mixing with sweet basil. How silky soft her skin is beneath my touch. The sounds of her breathing, the pound of my racing heart. Even the crackle of the fire I let go out hours ago. I never want to forget a single thing.
“Rain,” I rasp as I tear my mouth from hers. “What is it…what is this, princess? Did you come here to taunt me with your body to convince me to be a good boy, open up, let someone in? Did you think bringing me a meal but feeding me your sweetness would heal my wounds?”
Too late I realize how harsh my words sound. It’s what I am thinking. What I am feeling. My head is a harsh place. I amnever kind to myself. I am rarely kind to others. There is no reason anyone would be kind to me for any reason. Especially this pretty princess sitting on my lap.
It takes me a moment longer to realize they do not land the way I mean them to. I mean to piss her off. To upset her. Get some reason into that pretty head that her being here, with me, for any reason is a bad idea. They seem to do the exact opposite. Because all the softness about her gets even softer right before my eyes.
