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“Noelle, it’s written all over you. You wear your emotions on your face, and the way your body tenses tells it all.”
“I’m so sure.” I roll my eyes and try to step away, but unfortunately for me, he doesn’t let me go.
Drat. Drat. Drat.
This man is going to end up being my undoing. I can feel it. I don’t know this man, not like I knew the boy he used to be. And the way he went from staring at me with hatred in his eyes to vibrant, sinful desire beckons me.
He tilts his head and brings one of his hands up to cup the side of my face. He brushes my lips with his, teasing and enthralling, luring me in. It’s beautiful and mind-consuming all in one. My lips part on their own accord, and Cyprus takes the opportunity to seal his lips to mine and thrust his tongue into my mouth in a scorching, devouring kiss that leaves me aching for more. Between my legs, I can feel myself growing wet with desire for him, and I want more.
All too soon, Cyprus breaks away from the kiss, his breathing heavy, and he presses his forehead to mine.
“Soon enough, we’ll continue this, but not yet. You’re not ready for what I want to do to this sweet body.” Stroking my cheek with one hand, he slides the other down to palm my butt. “Now, let’s get going before I do anything else.”
What do I say to something like that?
Drat.
He’s got me all heated and needy for him when he should be repulsed by me. The way he says things . . . looks at me . . . he has me longing for something I know I can’t have.
* * *
“I don’t need all this stuff,” I protest, holding yet another pair of jeans, trying to put them back on the rack.
“Yeah, you do,” Cyprus remarks and places them back in the cart.
For the last hour, we’ve been having the same argument, with me putting stuff back up while he puts it back in the shopping cart of one of the many stores along the strip mall Cyprus brought me to.After that kiss earlier, my mind has been all over the place, and while he takes me through the store, anything that I’ve looked at with interest, he’s picked up. Hence the fourth pair of pants.
We started in Target, going to the health and beauty section, where he told me to pick out a toothbrush, brush for my hair, and whatever else I need. This part I didn’t mind because I couldn’t help myself. Though I’d gone for the cheapest I could find, he switched it out for something better. Even my shampoo and conditioner. Though he’d picked out the ones I actually did want.
I’m finding the man can be very observant.
“No, I don’t.” I reach for the jeans again, but Cyprus grips my wrist.
“Noelle, you do.”
“I’m used to having the bare minimum. I don’t need all of this.”
Cyprus’s eyes flash with frustration, and he pulls me close. “What did I say about me repeating myself?” he growls, his voice filled with irritation. “You’re not living like that anymore. You’re gonna have what you need, and this is just the fuckin’ beginning. Now, let’s get the rest of what you need.”I open my mouth the say something but shut it just as quickly when Cyprus leans in and presses his lips to mine. “Don’t argue with me, baby. Let me do this for you.”
What can I say to that?
Drat.
I nod and roll my bottom lip between my teeth and step back.
We spend the rest of the time in the store getting everything I need and want. Cyprus ended up getting me sandals, flip-flops, a pair of sneakers, several pairs of jeans, a ton of T-shirts, and tank tops. A hoodie. He took me to another store altogether for underwear and bras. There I ended up with at least twenty pairs of panties, anything from bikini style to boy shorts, even a few thongs. I also got six bras, two of them sports bras. The rest sexy. Very much so. I don’t think I’ve ever owned anything to make me feel more like a woman.
Everything I’ve owned since Noah died has been from secondhand thrift stores. So, owning something so pretty means the world to me.
Leaving the lingerie store, Cyprus stops us at another store, this one carrying leather jackets and chaps. He doesn’t wait around for me to look at anything and goes straight to one of the racks and picks out a leather jacket that looks amazing. He looks at me, then back to the jacket, and nods before going to the register. He sets it down and says something to the guy behind the counter. Cyprus then moves over to a display of helmets, where he picks out a black helmet with violet flames on it. It’s awesome, and I want it, but it’s not like I have a bike to ride. But when he turns toward me with it, he motions for me to join him.
“Need to see if this fits you,” he explains.
“I don’t need a helmet.” I swear, my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he ignores me and puts the helmet over my head.
“You do need one considering you’ll be on the back of my bike,” he declares and checks the helmet, seeing that it fits perfectly. “Yesterday was the only time you’ll be on it without one of these.” Pulling the helmet off my head, he carries it over to the counter and tells the guy behind it to ring it up.
“Cyprus—” I start to say, but he stops me with one of those looks of his. When it comes to him and his looks, I’m learning pretty quick not to argue. Otherwise, I end up turning into a puddle of goo at him either kissing me or giving me another talking-to. I don’t think I can handle another one of his talks.
