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I busy myself with scooping ice cream into a bowl, pointedly ignoring the various expressions flickering across Clara’s face. She’s flustered, she’s protective, she’s uncertain.
I know for a fact she’s alsoaroused.
And unable to do a damn thing about it.
40
DEMYEN
Willow quickly returns with the water and hands it to Clara before climbing back onto the bar chair and sorting through her crayons. Clara mutters something that vaguely resembles a “thank you.”
“Did you eat lunch?” I ask the little girl.
She nods. “Yup! Mommy made sandwiches and carrot sticks.”
“Did you eat all of it?”
Willow hesitates and glances at Clara. “Maybe…”
Clara takes this opportunity to nod at a crumb-covered plate that’s been shoved aside. “You still have two carrot sticks left.”
The girl makes a face, but her eyes are glued to the ice cream scoop in my hand. When she glances up at me, I gesture to the carrots with a quick tilt of my head.
The deal is struck. Willow chows through her carrots and offers her empty plate to Clara, who takes it to the sink.
When she returns, she finds her daughter digging a small spoon into a generous bowl of chocolate syrup-drizzled ice cream.
“Dem—”
I cut her off by sliding another bowl in front of her.
Clara sighs, a small smile playing at her lips, but she nudges the bowl away. “I’m not hungry.”
“Bullsh—Liar.” I glance at the little tyrant who’s taken over my freedom of speech and back at her infuriating mother. “I only see one plate. You didn’t eat.”
“I finished early.”
“Never tell a lie, Mommy,” Willow quietly slips in. Her tentative smile grows when I wink at her, my little informant-in-training.
“Yeah,Mommy.” I cage Clara in against the island, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other slides the bowl back in front of her. “Never tell a lie.” I grab the spoon and dip it in, pick up a bite, and hold it to her lips. “Take a bite.”
Clara narrows her eyes at me, but the sound of her daughter’s laughter seems to do the trick. She wraps her lips around the spoon, her gaze never leaving mine.
I’m suddenly very aware of the way she feels pressed so close to me. The way the soft fullness of her breasts rubs the side of my chest. The way she fits so perfectly tucked inside my arm.
She blinks at me for a moment before quickly turning around to face Willow. But I don’t let her get away that easily. I’m too addicted, and she’s just given me a taste of what I want.
Both my arms wrap around her waist, slowly but firmly pulling her into me. I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in.
She smells different. Not bad, just… different. Like sweet melons and sunshine, not the rich spice of my own scent.
I have no idea what mother and daughter are talking about as they eat their ice cream. And I’ve completely forgotten about my own bowl. I’m too busy trailing my mouth down the nape of her neck and inhaling her, trying to catch a whiff of myself on her skin or her clothes or anywhere, really.
“You smell different,” I finally whisper against her shoulder.
Clara blushes a beautiful shade of pink and finishes the last bite of her ice cream. “New shampoo. And body wash. Do you… do you like it?”
My arms tighten around her waist. “I like the other one better.”
