7
Mysti
Another knock soundedon my door, and this time, I didn’t jump quite as high. My heart beat faster, but it wasn’t out of fear. I didn’t have to see the bun of curly hair tied up on his head to know that it was Trenton at the door.
I raced toward it and swung it open, my blood singing in my veins when I saw him standing there.
With bare, muscular arms loaded with bags, stomach muscles tight beneath his opened shirt, and his chest glimmering with a slight sheen of sweat, he looked good enough to eat.
“Hey.” I leaned my head against the door, and if it weren’t for the grumble in my empty stomach, I would have been content to stand there, staring at him all night.
“Good evening, love.” Trenton stepped through the doorway, then hovered over me for a moment before he bent and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. When he spoke again, it was just a whisper. “How is it possible that I missed you this much?”
He wiped the smile right off my face with another bruising kiss. I reached for his face, cupping his bearded cheeks for no other reason than to keep him right there. He slanted his lips over mine, and when I gasped, his tongue invaded my mouth. Together, we groaned. He leaned in closer, and I lost myself to him for a moment before I heard two quiet thunks on the floor.
“Come here.” Those muscular arms of his curled around me, holding me tight as he pushed me backward into my house and kicked the door shut behind him. He lifted me, spun in a circle, laughter floating free as he held me close. He backed straight into the couch I’d been sitting on not a moment before, and pulled me with him as he fell onto his back.
“Oof.” A girlish giggle churned through me, lifting up in the air as it rolled across my lips. “I missed you too.”
His wide smile was tempered when he pulled back from giving me a peck on the nose. “You taste like cinnamon. I thought I told you not to eat.”
I smoothed my fingers over the hair on his cheeks, my attention on his plush lips. “I know. I’m sorry. But if it helps, I’m absolutely starving.”
A hum rumbled through him, the sound tickling me where my chest met his. “I’m starving too.”
Before I could speak, before I could move, Trenton’s lips were on mine again. His tongue slipped into my mouth, curling against the roof, before sliding against my own. He kissed me like he hadn’t seen me in years. Kissed me like he’d die if he didn’t.
And I felt the same. Like if I didn’t kiss him, my world would come to an end.
He trailed his fingertips along the bare skin of my arm, and I smoothed my fingers along his beard, down his neck, to the light dusting of hair on his chest. I wanted things I hadn’t wanted before. I wanted things I shouldn’t want. But when I was around him, logic walked straight out of the door and left me dumb and wanting at his feet.
His fingers skimmed my side, then slid lower, to the waistband of my skirt. And for a moment, I held my breath, waiting. Wondering what he was going to do. Wondering if I’d let him do it. Then those fingers spread, his open palm settling against the curve of my ass. He let out a sigh and tugged me closer.
“I could eat you up, love. Devour every last inch of you.”
My heart thudded in my chest, and I lifted my gaze to find his sea-foam green eyes staring back at me. “Yeah?”
One corner of his lips curled up. “Yeah.” He looked like he was going to say something, but his eyes drifted away for a couple seconds. When he returned his focus to me, he shook his head. “But I have to give you your surprise first.”
I barely suppressed a groan as he lifted me and helped set me on my feet. He grabbed the bags from where he’d left them by the door, turning to me and holding them up. He smiled expectantly like I could see what was inside. “Can I use your kitchen?”
Nodding, I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. I followed him into the kitchen, then watched as he unpacked his bags. He lined the counter with food. A mango, a cucumber, avocados, and a bag of rice. There were other things, too, but he turned to me before I could see what they were.
He licked his lips and rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to make you dinner.”
“Really?” I tried to temper my smile, but I could feel it stretching wide across my face. “You’re a cook too?”
“Too?” His face scrunched up, and he stepped toward me. “What else am I?”
I let him take my hands, let him wrap his arms around me and lock mine behind my back. He lowered his lips to my throat, kissing and licking my skin.
“You’re a good kisser,” I told him, the words just a whisper as they scraped up my throat. “You're a good dancer. You’ve got great taste in music and beer and—”
“And women,” he murmured near my ear. “I’ve got great taste in women. Because this woman, right here, is the best.”
That girlish giggle? It decided it needed a repeat. And the sound seemed to egg Trenton on. He nipped at my ear before he kissed along my jaw, his lips ending up on mine once more.
“Enough,” he whispered, though he didn’t stop. “I can’t make you dinner if I’m over here, kissing you.”