“Mild?”
“If it were too sweet, it wouldn’t go well with these.” He opens a box and I’m staring at chocolates lying in silver little cups. He sets the box between us, then reaches for one. He lifts it to my mouth. “Take a bite.”
Seriously shy to be eating from his hand, I take a tiny nibble. It’s good. Dense. Creamy.
“Now take a sip of wine.”
I robotically follow his orders, but when the wine hits the chocolate, smooth and dry meet rich and creamy —then meld into intense. “Holy crap! It’s amazing.”
His laugh causes his eyes to crinkle at the corners. “Wait until you taste it with the dark chocolate.” He pops the bitten candy in his mouth, takes a drink of wine, and holds out another chocolate for me to bite. “Dark.”
With another shy bite, my lips touch his finger. A jolt from the contact has me sitting back and gulping wine.
A boat horn sounds somewhere echoing along the river.
“Good?” he asks in a husky voice.
“Very. Better than the last. So,” I say, still holding but setting the cup on my thigh, “I’m curious. How did you come up with this?” I gesture to the roof, then the view.
“It’s kind of embarrassing.” His eyebrows knit together as he takes a sip.
The wine and chocolate in my stomach turn as I wait for him to admit he’s had sex up here or something.
“Romeo, our guitarist, has been pushing the indie route lately. We’ve been searching for places to shoot a video. This roof is on the list.”
All thoughts of sexual escapades fly out of my head. “Why is
He shrugs and crosses his arms over a lifted knee. “I don’t know. I guess going live on YouTube seems over the top. I like to perform. Going national or international or whatever was never part of what I expected. We’re big around here. That’s always been enough.”
“No dreams of filling a stadium?”
“I…” He runs a hand through his messy hair. “Obviously I can’t speak from experience, but I imagine the connection I have with the crowd won’t be the same in a huge concert. And that connection is what keeps me going sometimes.”
Maybe because of his gorgeous exterior, his obvious wealth, and the harem that’s apparently available twenty-four seven, I’m always surprised when he deepens the conversation. Like when he talked about his connection to the audience at his shows in the tattoo shop. My cynicism and reservations about him fade into the background. “Except for the glimpse of temper at the coffee shop, I imagined your life carefree.”
He turns to me, resting his back against the brick of the chimney. “Everyone needs a bit of light to keep them from the dark, even when they live in a perfect world like me,” he says with a trace of sarcasm. “But I like hearing that I’m in your imagination.”
“Don’t get too excited. My imagination isn’t all that wild.” I’ve become good at keeping it in check. In fact, Justin is the only guy I’ve met since Trevor who breaks past the barriers to enter my imagination.
Setting his cup at the edge of the blanket, he leans closer and the breeze is full of his dark, earthy cologne. “Well, I can’t say the same thing.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Please don’t tell me I’m running naked through your head.”
“Sometimes,” he admits as his lids lower and his gaze rests on my lips. “Right now my imagination is tamer.”
“Oh,” I say stupidly and a little breathlessly as I pull a strand of windblown hair from my cheek. He watches me as if giving me time to grasp the purpose in his eyes. I could turn away from his sensual gaze, look at the view, and end the excitement lurching in my stomach, but I don’t want to.
“What I’m imagining right now is this,” he murmurs. He bends and his lips brush against mine. Our odd angle against the brick, with my cheek almost brushing the chimney and him shouldered against it, means he can’t kiss me fully. Still, his lips press against the side of my mouth with a slow burning heat. The rest of my body hums with anticipation, waits for him to drag me closer and deepen the kiss, but he keeps his hands still, touching me only with his mouth. The slow tantalizing caress of his lips is the drip of a powerful drug drawing me into a cocoon of lust.
Finally, he shifts and kisses me fully, yet still without any other contact. I taste the chocolate and wine on his tongue as he explores my mouth. The plastic cup in my hand cracks in my tight grip, and the sound echoes between us.
He pulls back a bit.
“Sorry,” I mutter in embarrassment.
With the shadow of a smile, he takes my cup and sets it next to his. Then he moves the lantern and chocolates from between us. He scoots closer and lifts me halfway into his lap. His fingers brush over the barbells in my eyebrow in a light caress. “This all right?”
Laying across him into the crook of his arm, I let out a breathless, “Yes.”
He bends and his lips trace my jaw while his other hand comes to rest on my stomach. His hot mouth slides along my jaw, then pauses below my ear. My head falls back as desire curls through me, a soft pulsating current under the palm across my stomach. He lightly sucks my earlobe, then kisses the line of my neck, the edge of my chin, and the corner of my mouth. Clearly seduction was on his mind, and I have to admit he’s doing one hell of a job. I turn my head, desperate for the feel of his lips on mine, but his mouth slides along my cheekbone. He buries his nose into my hair and takes a deep breath.
Unbelievably aroused, I clutch the front of his windbreaker in a silent plea. At last his mouth finds mine. The intensity of the kiss thrusts me back, but his strong arm holds me up. Though forceful, he comes on slow and sensual, exploring me with the sweep of his tongue until I’m desperately exploring his mouth too. The long kiss immerses me completely and it’s like I’m floating. Every one of my cells is melting and becoming his to shape like clay.
When his hand slides from my stomach to rest under my breast, I’m waiting, wanting, frantic for him to touch me there. He tears his mouth from mine, and his thumb finally brushes my nipple through my sweatshirt as he whispers in my ear, “What’s your light from the dark?”
One word comes at me through the haze of lust.
Staring at me with an unreadable look, Justin runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay.”
“I don’t mean to…I’m sorry.”
He recorks the wine bottle, then stands up to pack up the duffel bag. “Just don’t leave a shoe up here.”
I put the lid back on the box of chocolates. “You seem to know that fairy tale well,” I say, holding out the box of chocolates.
“Someone used to read to me daily. Fairy tales were included.” He points to the box. “Those are yours.”
“Oh. Thanks,” I say stupidly, and stand. “Your mother?”
“Huh?” he asks, snatching the blanket up.
“The person who read to you.”
He pauses from folding the blanket. “No…it was my nanny.”
His odd answer keeps me silent as he finishes folding, but seriously, who has a nanny? And who remembers their nanny more than their mother?
We pack the rest of the stuff except the lantern, which he carries to light our way as we head to the ladder. I give the view one last long look. “This was lovely. Thank you for bringing me. And for the wine and chocolates.”
With the duffel on his shoulder and while holding the hatch open, he says, “Don’t forget about the kisses.”
I roll my eyes, stepping toward the ladder. “Yes. Thank you for honoring me with the glorious touch of your lips.”
He pulls me into a one-armed hug and gives me a sweet, quick kiss before brushing his lips on my forehead.
