Page 31 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

My heart was missing beats. My fingers ran across the edge of the table, unable to hold still. But Kaine sat rigid and stiff, moving only to breathe and flick his gaze across my lips.

I wanted his tongue on my mouth, not his stare. I wanted to feel it sweep inside and have him for dessert.

My breath hitched when his foot next to mine twitched. It came up my bare ankle, and though the sole of his boot was rough, he used the slightest touch. The friction shot tingles straight up my leg, past my knee and right to my core.

Was he playing footsie with me?

I tested him, lifting the toe of my sandal up his ankle. He didn’t pull his foot away.

Any other day, any other man, I’d laugh at this situation. We were playing footsie and it was utterly erotic.

Having sex with Kaine again would only complicate things. My body was all in, but there was a tiny warning bell ringing in the back of my mind.

Was this just a rebound? Was I transferring feelings from Adam to this man, simply because he was here?

No.

This wasn’t a rebound or some kind of revenge fuck. This was pure, unfettered attraction. This was two people whose chemistry was explosive. This was me wanting Kaine. And him wanting me right back.

If we agreed this was casual, then what was the harm? Awesome sex between neighbors didn’t have to get messy. When I’d moved here, I’d hoped to eventually find an easy relationship. So it had happened a little sooner than expected.

If we set some ground rules, there was no reason Kaine and I couldn’t enjoy one another’s bodies.

“I have dessert.” Our feet kept playing beneath the table. “It’s this huge chocolate chip cookie in a cast-iron skillet. I put ice cream on top and then drizzle chocolate and caramel sauce over it all.”

“Sounds fucking incredible.” His gravelly voice made my core pulse.

“They are. I’ll make one for us.” I didn’t make a move to get up. I was too busy enjoying the feel of a rugged man’s work boot kissing the soft skin of my ankle.

We both knew this conversation wasn’t about the cookie.

His boot went higher up my calf. Heat pooled between my legs and I spread them apart.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” I told him.

He nodded. “I’m good with casual.”

“No expectations?”

“Not from me.”

“Okay,” I whispered, reluctantly taking my foot away from his so I could slide out of my seat.

I cleared my plate to the sink, but before I could turn and get Kaine’s, his heat was at my back. He reached around me, setting his empty plate on top of mine. Then he pried the steak knife and fork out of my hand, dropping them into the sink with a clank.

My heart raced. My breathing stopped. My hands shook with anticipation of what he’d do next.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his mouth toward my neck. His breath hit my skin first in a warm whisper before his soft lips pressed onto my bare skin.

Then came his hands, drifting slowly up my arms from my wrists. His square fingertips glided over my forearms and the sensitive skin on the undersides of my elbows. Nerve endings ignited and singed as his trail continued up my biceps.

By the time his hands made it to my shoulders, I was trembling. I lost my balance and swayed backward into his hard chest.

The moment we collided, his movements changed. Gone was the slow, torturous caress. His large hands gripped my shoulders before sliding palms across my collarbones. His fingers dug into the tops of my breasts, kneading them until I was on fire.

“Kaine,” I moaned, so close to coming from his lips and hands alone.

But before I reached the peak, Kaine spun me around, hoisted me up in his arms and carried me down the short hallway to my bedroom.