All I can focus on is the feeling of his muscles surrounding my flesh and the feverish sensations that travel through each of my limbs.
We enter his living room and bypass the couch as he heads into the kitchen, placing me atop the granite countertop. There’s a slight chill that makes me gasp, but I’m quickly warmed up by the hand massaging my thigh, squeezing in a way meant to be comforting when all it does is raise the temperature in the room.
I’m in tune with his movements. With the way his eyes traverse my short frame, from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes and back again.
And what I find more disconcerting is the absence of my shyness.
Where did it go? Why is it that I feel so at home with a man that for all intents and purposes is a stranger to me, in nothing but the oversized shirt he gave me? No panties. No bottoms. Nothing but the threat of the slickness on my thighs leaving a spot for him to find after I get down.
He’s dangerous. So dangerous for me.
“Let me see your foot.” Not a question, but a command. Amber eyes on mine, he glides the tips of two fingers down my injured leg until reaching my foot. Goose bumps rise across my body; his touch spreads through every limb and then settles in my core.
Christ, I clench. Hard. It nearly hurts and I bite my bottom lip, something he takes for pain and not the unknowing pleasure I feel. “It’s just a bruise. It’ll be good in a day or two.”
He ignores the breathiness in my tone, choosing instead to drop to his haunches and inspect the area. Theodore is so close. A subtle shift of my hips and I’d be nothing more than a virgin offering, but I squeeze my thighs instead and hold my breath.
“It’s so pink and already swollen.” Tone gravelly, his nose flares a bit when he swipes a finger across the tender spot, pulling a hiss from me. I also move a bit without thinking, not that he’ll see anything. At least I hope I’m not flashing him. “Would me kissing it make you feel better?”
Around him, my mind lives in the naughtiest of spaces and I almost beg him to. Almost. But I’m sure what I’m thinking and what he said have two very different connotations.
“That’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” He’s looking up at me through thick black lashes and God help me, I bite my cheek to keep in the embarrassing sound that almost slips through. I even find the way his throat bobs harshly so sexy. “A kiss and ice would fix you right up.”
I’d definitely need the ice to cool off. You’re killing me. “Yes.”
“As you wish.” But then he does something that’s so much worse. It’s a total destruction of my senses. One small and tender flick of his tongue makes me forget the world around me and my bare pussy; I can’t stop the way my back arches and hips jut forward a bit, just enough to flash him a second before he stands and hovers over me.
Right against me. Trapping me.
Theodore’s clenched hands are on the stone countertop and his face a few centimeters from mine. His exhales become my inhale, and the hooded look in his eyes makes me shake. I tingle from head to toe—clit throbbing—and the man has barely touched me.
I need to stop this. But won’t. Can’t.
“Better?” he asks, coming a little closer, his stare flicking between my green eyes and my lips. Something unintelligible leaves me as a response, and he nods as if it were the most eloquent thing he’s ever heard. There’s also a bit of a smirk, the knowing look of a man who knows he’s a walking temptation. “Then you should get dressed and meet me back in the living room in ten. Tero should be on his way up with your pup soon.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve also ordered breakfast for you.”
“Okay.”
“After he leaves, I’ll drive you home myself...” his cheek rubs against mine, lips at my ear “...and make sure everything’s okay for you to go back. Do you trust me to do so, Gabriella? To take care of you any way I see fit?”
“Okay,” I say again, too distracted by his nearness.
“Good girl.”
19
Theodore
She’s sitting beside me with her ever-loyal companion on her lap; he eyes me while she stares outside the window, lost in thought. Every once in a while her lips move but no sound comes out, her nose scrunches up but I don’t know why and it’s driving me insane.
Because with her—when it comes to her—there’s always this innate need to know it all. Every last thought. Every reason behind her actions. To be the one that is there while helping her when the time comes.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice low inside the car so as to not startle her.
“What?” Her head turns in my direction and her expression is calm. She looks at peace. So fucking gorgeous, and at the same time unaware. Still wearing my clothes that are clearly several sizes too large, Gabriella is the epitome of stunning in her natural splendor. No makeup or perfume or revealing clothing is needed to showcase her ethereal beauty. “Did you ask something?”
“I did.” Taking the next left, I turn down the street of her home. It’s located at the end and on the corner with the driveway to the left of her front door where a garage remains closed. Pulling in, I put the car in park and then turn to look at her. “What’s going on? You seem lost in your head.”
“Thinking.”
“About?” I hedge.
“That I need some coffee desperately.” Gabriella is lying, but I don’t call her out on it. Not yet. Instead, I get out of the car and come around to her side. I pull it open and extend a hand. “Come on. You make that coffee while I
