Page 13 of His Muse

“Gotcha.” The whisper in my ear turns my body to stone, and I’m helpless to do anything but stare as Carmen steps out of the shadows and cups the side of my face. Her hand is warm and dry and delicate, and I swallow down a groan.

She’s never touched me before. Not likethis.

Already, it’s everything.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, and then she’s leaning closer, her breath whispering against my cheeks, smelling faintly of spearmint. Strands of her glossy hair tickle my neck, and then her lips are on mine, andfuck.

I’ve seen god.

Carmen kisses me shyly, sweetly, brushing her mouth against mine, her hand so gentle where she cups my cheek. She’s softness and light. So fucking angelic, and I’m the demon crawling through her bedroom window with dark needs pulsing in his blood.

For now, though, I let her kiss me like this. Tentatively. Like she’s learning me, and maybe learning the act of kissing altogether, her mouth so innocent and unsure.

My heart sings.

“Have you done this before?” My voice is gruff as it breaks the quiet. Carmen hums and kisses me again before answering.

“Have I ever kissed a man climbing through my bedroom window? No, Tudor. I haven’t.”

I like her sass, but I want an answer. “Have you ever kissedanyone, Carmen?”

She stiffens and I wait, breath held. But after a long moment the tension bleeds away again, and her shrug is careless. “No. I’ve never done any of this before, but I took a guess that you wouldn’t mind.”

Mind?

I wouldn’tmind?

That my girl is discovering a whole side of herself with me as the lucky partner? That she chosemefor this?

Of course I don’t fucking mind. I’m flying up there with the stars.

“Come here,” I growl, yanking her closer by the waist, and this timeI’mleading the kiss, and it’s deep, and dark, and dirty. My mouth slants hungrily against hers, and I coax her lips open before licking inside.

Carmen trembles in my arms, but she grabs two fistfuls of my shirt and gives as good as she gets. It’s a little clumsy at first, but it’s fucking perfect.

My girl.

I’mkissingher. And she’s kissing me back. We’re sharing body heat, mingling breaths, grasping at clothes.

“Are you going to come all the way inside?” Carmen asks when she breaks away, breathing hard. “Or are you going to keep one leg out there on the deck all night?”

All night.

Jesus Christ.

Her bedroom floorboards creak as I climb the rest of the way inside. “You can tell me to leave at any time and I will,” I say, snagging the ghostly shape of her hand. Carmen chuckles as she leads me past the bed—that’s for the best—and out to the living room.

“Will you? Are you sure about that, Tudor?”

She’s joking, with a teasing lilt to her voice, but I tug her to stop. “Yes, Carmen. I will.”

Because I know everything I’ve done before now has been twisted and wrong. Iknowthat my girl deserves better than my full blown obsession. But I’ve never wanted to scare her, and I’ve never wanted to make her unhappy.

If she gives me my marching orders, I’ll take them. I want her to understand that.

Carmen has a choice. She’llalwayshave a choice with me, and if she lets me, I’ll work for my whole life to earn a place by her side.

Does a twisted part of me hope that shelikesfeeling me watch her? That she won’t just choose me, but my obsession too? Sure. If I could follow Carmen for the rest of our lives, if I could stare at her across crowded streets and climb through her window every night to watch her sleep…

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