Page 29 of This Reckless Home

“Here, let me take that,” I say as I rush over to her, reaching out and grasping the sides of the tray. Our fingers brush and my teeth clench at the spark of electricity that flies across my nerves.

“Thank you, Anatole,” she says, those stunning hazel eyes catching the late afternoon sunshine, which makes flecks of gold sparkle in them. Damn she’s so fucking beautiful.

Her fingers come up, brushing aside the hair that always falls in my eyes, no matter how much I style it. I swear the world stops spinning for a moment as her fingers caress my skin.

I find myself leaning down, tray in hand, and she tilts her face upwards, leaning up.

It’s like I’ve no control over my body, like we are two magnets unable to resist each other’s pull. All I can see are her plush lips, and the flush that rises to her cheeks whenever she's flustered, that pretty pink I've been cataloguing all week without meaning to.

All I can think is what Jus said about making her ours. About marrying a girl I’ve only known for nine days but who has altered the course of my fucking existence all the same.

“Miss. Blossom! Anatole! Come quick! Debbie is stuck!” One of the kids shouts and we spring apart, both breathless, chests heaving. A frustrated huff leaves my lips, and she gives me a small smile.

“You take those to the kitchen and I’ll go rescue a chicken.” Her hand lands on my arm, making all the hair stand on end as she gives it a squeeze.

Then she lets go, turns, but pauses. A little cute as fuck grumble comes from her, then she spins, placing her hand on my arm again as she leans up on her tiptoes and places her lips against my cheek.

She’s gone in the next instant, hurrying away like her delectable ass is on fire, while I stand there as my cheek burns.

“FIRE INSIDE” BY SWIM

BLOSSOM

My lips still tingle, a couple of hours after I kissed Anatole, and I find myself brushing over them with my fingers as I put the used tablecloths from today on to wash.

We were so close to kissing properly, I’m sure I didn’t imagine the way he leaned down, his blue eyes locked on my lips. And I didn’t want to leave it like there was nothing there, hence the kiss on his cheek because I wasn’t brave enough to kiss his lips once the moment was broken.

Plus, I knew one small kiss would never be enough. Not for our first kiss anyway.

“So,” Nox’s sharp voice jogs me out of my musings, and I look up with a gasp to find him leaning against the doorway of the laundry room. His muscular arms are crossed, and though he’s not as jacked as Steele, he still has incredible forearm porn. “Steele made his move.”

I’m shaking my head, wondering why he’s talking about Steele when it was Anatole I just almost made out with.

“No?” My gaze snaps back to his, realising that he’s referring to this morning when his pale jade eyes pointedly look at my neck. He steps closer, sucking out all the air from the room, his eyes glinting.

“So, you’re just wearing a turtleneck and scarf in May for fun?”

I lick my dry lower lip. “Maybe I’m just cold.”

Another step. “You’re a terrible liar, Petal.” That damn nickname makes my insides quiver. “Did you enjoy his primal way of fucking you?” My lips part on a puff of air and he takes another step. “Did you like it when he bit you, marked you, knowing we’d see.”

I swallow. Hard. Then lift my chin. “T-that’s none of your business, Nox.”

“Isn’t it?” His lips lift, his voice dropping. “When I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the moment you blew into that living room like a fresh spring breeze a week ago?”

My breath catches, then stutters out of me.

He smiles wide, sharp and knowing. Another step, so close that our chests brush and I have to tilt my head back just to keep eye contact.

“Yeah. Thought so.”

Before I can formulate a response, one of his hands is in my hair, the other collaring my throat, thumb over the love bite Steele left, his lips crashing onto mine. He lets out a deep, almost tortured groan that lights a fire inside me, my hands coming up to cling to those delicious forearms.

“Knew you would ruin me,” he mumbles against my lips, not giving me a chance to answer as his tongue swipes over the seam of my lips.

I part them — what else can I do — and he wastes no time in diving in, his tongue dominating but coaxing as it strokes mine. His thumb presses into the bite that Steele left, the pain sharp and I make a gasping noise into his mouth that has his tongue going deeper, almost fucking my mouth and I melt into him.

God if he kisses like this, how does the man fuck?