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You’d never recoil from Arsen.
His espresso eyes bounced between mine, the way he measured me not at all uncomfortable as it had been when it was everyone else. “Let me see you take a drink, Matthew.”
Ripping my eyes from his, I looked down at the cup I held between us, then at the one he also held. There was coffee spilled on his lid.
“Did you give me yours?” I asked.
He hummed an agreement.
“Why?” I asked, searching his face for the answer.
“Take a drink,” he repeated.
I listened, tipping it against my lips and swallowing the warm, sweet concoction, and doing it all without once looking away from his enigmatic gaze.
The second I lowered it from my mouth, he leaned in to whisper into my ear. “Good boy.”
My lips folded in on themselves as the coffee slid into my stomach, his praise wrapping around my heart.
“You keep that one, okay? I’ll take this one.”
I nodded, suddenly wondering if he’d drunk from it before trading with me. The thought had me looking at his mouth, looking for a hint of a sheen. Unable to tell, I gazed down at the cup in my hand as if the lid would somehow bear the imprint of his lips.
Amusement lit his eyes, and the corner of his mouth tipped up.
“Come on. We should go,” Kruger said from over my shoulder as he impatiently tugged the hood lying against my back.
Beep! Beep! The sudden horn blasted through whatever spell Arsen always seemed to wrap me in, and I stumbled back.
His hand shot out to cup my elbow at the same time Kruger braced a hand against my back.
The grip on my elbow was firm but not rough and a complete contrast to the irritation that contorted his features as he looked over his shoulder at the large black SUV idling close by.
“Your ride’s here,” Kruger told him.
Arsen ignored my bro and glanced at the coffee in my hand. Following his lead, I looked down too. Disappointment ripped out of me in the form of a small gasp when I saw this lid was now marred with spilled coffee as well.
Releasing my elbow, he slipped the cup from my grasp and lifted it to his lips. My Adam’s apple bobbed when his tongue darted out, skimming the side of his lip ring before licking up the mess.
I forgot to think about the weird half-textured, half-smooth finish on the lid. I forgot to be grossed out.
All I thought about was how he kissed me last night and how good it felt. After the lid was clean, he settled his lips completely over the opening and took a long swallow of the latte.
When he was done, the sheen I’d been searching his lips for just moments ago was there, and his tongue dashed out to swipe it away.
“There you go, princess,” he murmured, holding the cup back out to me.
I really, really liked his voice.
All I managed was to blink. The rest of me felt heavy like I was standing in concrete, and I just stood there and marveled at the way I’d just submitted to him.
“P. We’re going. Let’s go.”
Kruger’s words were so far away as I divided my look between Arsen’s mouth and the cup.
He arched his brow, silently asking me if I’d take it now that I knew his lips had been where mine would go. I looked back at my original mug, the one still splattered with coffee.
“It’s me or the mess,” he said, reminding me of last night when it had been him or the closet.
