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It’s been a week since we returned to Milan from Manarola. A week filled with countless heart flips, butterflies galore, and a newly forming tingle that starts at the back of my neck and works its way down to my toes every single time I look at Kane.
We’ve taken things extremely slow, learning more about each other with each passing day. He kisses me regularly…as in all the time. But our physical relationship has not gone past that. Unless you count spooning, because Kane Thaler is one hell of a spooner.
Needless to say he upgraded from the couch to the bedroom the day we returned from our three days in Manarola and he’s been there since. There’s something so incredible about him being the last person I see, the last voice I hear, the last touch I feel before I fall asleep. And then I get to wake up and experience every sensation all over again. It’s become my new favorite way to start my day.
Music’s coming from the apartment as I climb the last staircase, so I pause outside the door to listen.
James Bay.
Did I mention he has stellar taste in music too?
Surprised that he’s already home from the office, given that it’s only four-thirty, I quickly push my way inside, depositing two shopping bags on the floor next to the door before spotting Kane in the kitchen.
He’s shirtless–of course he is–and barefoot, his suit pants low on his hips doing some really good things for his ass. Not that he needs any help in that department.It’s hot in the small apartment, is what he always says when I ask him why he never has clothes on. I think he walks around like this on purpose because he likes the reaction it gets from me.
I stand in the doorway of the small kitchen for several seconds watching him stir something in a pot before he finally senses my presence, clearly not hearing my entrance over the music blaring through the small apartment.
“There she is.” He grins, popping a lid on the pan before peeking into the oven.
“What are you doing home already?” I ask, giggling when he pulls me into his arms and drops a kiss to my mouth.
“Wrapped up early. Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”
“Now that you mention it, you have yet to wow me with these so called cooking skills you claim to have. About time you put your money where your mouth is.” I pull back and give him a teasing wink.
“You just wait, Miss Menton. I’m going to knock your socks off.”
“I’m not wearing any socks,” I point out, looking down at the flip flops on my feet.
“Would you rather I say it’ll knock your panties off?” His voice drops low, lips sweeping against mine. “Because that can be arranged.”
My body instantly gets tight and a slow ache forms in my lower belly. I have to take a few calming breaths to pull myself together. I’ve told myself we need to take things slow, but when he looks at me the way he’s looking at me right now it’s all I can do not to tackle him right here on the kitchen floor. Kane stirs something in me; a desire I’ve never felt toward another person.
“You talk a big talk, Thaler,” I tease, needing to lighten the mood.
“I walk a big walk too.” He winks, taking my hand in his before stepping back and twirling me under his arm.
My head drops back on a laugh when he pulls me back to his chest and starts swaying slowly back and forth to my favorite song on this album, “Move Together”.
My laughter doesn’t last long. Like the song, Kane’s movements are slow and sultry. His hand grazes slowly down my back, his lips trail up the side of my neck, his hips sway back and forth against me as he effortlessly moves us around the small kitchen.
All I can do is hold onto him, fearful that if I let go my legs won’t be able to support my weight. That’s what he does to me; he turns my body into mush and my mind even more so.
“Elara.” His whispered words at the base of my throat send a rush of need through my body.
Tangling my fingers in his hair, I lift his face to mine before pressing my lips firmly against his. He instantly deepens the kiss, his arms wrapping around my waist as his tongue sweeps through my mouth.
An involuntary moan slips past my lips and he swallows it whole, pulling me off my feet so the only choice I have is to wrap my legs around his waist, my arms locking around his neck.
Backing me into the refrigerator, his mouth continues to move against mine. When his fingers slide up my shirt, touching the bare skin of my side, something inside me snaps.
All I see is Kane.
All I smell is Kane.
All I feel is Kane.
All I want is Kane.
