AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shouldn’t have worriedabout my cat being a standoffish bitch to my boyfriend, because Pet basically threw herself at him, rubbing herself all over his ankles, looking up at him with her big yellow eyes. Taavi was only marginally less enthusiastic about her. He dropped his shoulder bag on the floor and crouched down, letting Pet push her furry head into his palm and making little chuffing coos at her.
I guess being a canid shifter didn’t necessarily translate to the proverbial fighting like cats and dogs. Or my cat was fucking weird. Or my boyfriend was. Or both.
I don’t judge. Everybody I like is weird.
I scooted around them, leaving my boyfriend to dote on my cat and vice versa while I went to the fridge to pull out a couple of beers.
I came back into the main room, holding one out, which was apparently enough of an enticement that Taavi gave Pet a final head-rub before standing and coming over to take the bottle from me with a smile.
“I think she likes me,” he said.
I snorted. “She likes me, too, so I wouldn’t take it as high praise,” I told him.
He took a drink from the bottle, his sparkling eyes on mine, the act of swallowing causing the muscles in his throat to move with a ripple that made my mouth go dry—I took a drink from my own beer to try to lubricate things.
“What?” Taavi asked me, catching me staring.
I felt my ears heat up, but at least I successfully stopped myself from making some dumbass comment. Instead, I answered him honestly. “You.”
Taavi’s eyebrows lifted. “Me?”
I took a step toward him. “You,” I repeated, feeling a thickness in my throat.
I was close enough that I could watch his pupils widen, both of them, even though I knew he couldn’t really see me with one in the grey-white eye.
It was still beautiful, like fractured white quartz, its partner the brown of chocolate or coffee, rich and deep.
God, I was such a goner.
Taavi lifted the bottle again, his lips closing around its mouth making me think about his lips closing around something a good deal warmer than cold glass.
His throat moved again as he swallowed, tossing back the entire bottle before he lowered it again.
I wanted to make a smartass comment about needing to get drunk in order to kiss me, but—one—that would be both stupid and assholish, and—two—I was a little afraid it was true.
I didn’t have long to think about it, though, because Taavi handed me his empty, then grabbed the front of my shirt with his now-free hand and pulled my lips to his. There was nothing timid or hesitant about his kiss, his tongue hot and demanding, his lips cool from the beer, his mouth almost bruising.
I wanted to grab him, pull him closer, but my hands were now holding one empty and one mostly-full beer bottle, and I heard myself let out a small whine of frustration at my inability to touch him. I felt him smile against my lips before he pulled back.
“You could go put those down,” he suggested.
I nodded. “Okay.” I went back to the kitchen, setting my partly-drunk beer on the counter and tossing Taavi’s empty into the recycle bin. I turned around to go back to the main room, finding Taavi leaning against the doorway into my small kitchen, his smile wide enough to create a dimple in one cheek.
“What?” I asked him, echoing his earlier question.
He smiled more broadly. “You,” he answered, mimicking my previous answer.
“Me?”
He took a step forward. “You.” Another step, like he was stalking me.
“What about me?” I asked, hearing my own voice dropping low and a little rough.
He stepped closer, close enough that his breath ruffled the fabric of my shirt, his chin tilted up so that he could study my face. I expected him to grab my shirt again, but he didn’t.
Instead, he hooked one finger in my belt loop, pulling my hips against his hard enough that I could feel the bulge of his interest against my own.
“All of you,” he answered, reaching up with his good hand to start undoing the button at my collarbones. “Your hands. Your mouth.” He drew in a breath, his fingers surprisingly nimble as he worked his way down my chest. “Your scent.” He finished undoing the buttons, then spread his hand across my abdomen, his palm hot against my belly. “Your skin.”
