He raises his eyes once his sleeves are rolled up and flattens his buckle, making sure his belt sits smoothly around his waist.
A small smile tilts his lips when he catches me ogling him.
“Are you ready?” he asks, swaggering to me.
“Mm-hmm.”
I grab my tiny purse and my phone before strutting past him, fully aware of my effect on him.
I don’t know what happened to him tonight, but he’s been studying me since he came from the gym. I caught him staring at me several times, unable to focus. Having a hard time talking to me.
He wasn’t preoccupied. I know how that looks. I’ve seen him distracted, pondering things that weren’t in my grasp, but this was different.
I am the reason he’s distracted.
Granted, the clothes I wear are a hit with him. I’ll be the first to recognize that. But it’s more than that. Thoughts flicker through his eyes, a sultry desire lining his bedroom stare.
And it’s all for me.
I’ve never seen that look in a man’s eyes. Although I’ve drowned in their attention.
Mostly lately.
I know how hunger looks. I’ve seen it in Alejandro’s eyes, mixed with tenderness, and I’ve also seen it in Francisco’s eyes, blended with an unstoppable sex drive.
I even noticed it in Cardenas’ eyes.
Maybe he didn’t have feelings for me, but I glimpsed the beast in him. Although he’s offered me a palatable version of himself––a.k.a not so frightening to me––something that would keep him out of trouble with Kai.
I’ve even seen Kai’s lust for me too. Quite often. Sometimes intermingled with his moments of calculated absence, but this is not it.
It’s like he spreads himself around me like a cloak of energy, wrapping his essence, his heart, his very soul around me.
Every time he looks at me like that, I get warm, my heart whimpers a little, and I feel like my life would turn into a desert without him.
He holds the door open while I step out.
It’s interesting how we’re so well-mannered and perfect in public, yet we are so dirty, and wild when we’re alone.
Minutes later, we get settled in his sports car.
The windows are down, letting in the breeze. The temperature is pleasant, the restlessness of the ocean materializing in small waves against the shore.
“Are we going downtown?”
“No,” he says, making a U-turn.
We head up north and keep going for a few good minutes, the scenery unfurling in front of us with the ocean on my right.
“It feels like I left New York a month ago,” I say, my eyes trained on the water. “So many things have happened,” I murmur, not looking at him.
“Are you excited to go back?”
I move my gaze to him.
His eyes are trained on the road while mine hover over his profile.
“Yes. There are things I need to do,” I say softly.