“Useful skill.” His voice was rougher than before.
She was reaching for another berry when a drop of syrup slipped off her fork and landed in her hair. She chuckled. “Now I’m as sticky as Navy after cake.”
“Hold still.” Before she could react, he caught the lock of hair between his fingers and thumb and gently worked it out of her hair. Which only made it stickier, she was certain, but his touch was gentle, the move tugging at a different part of her body.
His gaze locked on hers. “There,” he murmured, not moving away. His hand was still in her hair, fingers combing through the strands.
The air between them shifted, charged with something electric and inevitable. His eyes had gone dark, pupils dilated as he dropped his gaze to her mouth.
“Christ, Willow.” Her name sounded as a prayer.
“Yes?” Her own voice was a ragged breath.
Instead of answering, he cupped her face in his big, warm hand and kissed her.
It wasn’t a gentle, tentative kiss like she expected from a man as controlled as Decker.
It was hungry, desperate, seeking, like he’d been holding himself back for months and months and finally couldn’t anymore.
She gasped, responding without thinking, fisting the front of his shirt as she pulled him closer. He tasted like coffee and something distinctly male, and when his tongue swept across her lower lip, she opened for him with a soft moan.
The kiss deepened. Consuming.Necessary.He tangled his fingers in her hair, angling her head to get better access as his mouth moved over hers with pulsing intensity. She could feel the restraint he was fighting, the control he maintained even as his breathing grew harsh.
She knotted her hand in his shirt, fingertips grazing the steel muscle beneath as she kissed him back with the same need.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard. He rested his forehead against hers, his hands still framing her face as if she was precious glass.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” His voice rough with want.
“How long?” she whispered.
“A while. But since the day you stapled me back together, I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”
The admission sent desire spiraling through her core. She could feel the pulse at her throat fluttering wildly, could see the way his eyes tracked the movement.
“Decker…”
“I know this complicates things.” He traced his thumb along her jawline.
“I don’t care about complicated.” The words surprised her with their vehemence, but as soon as she said them, she knew they were true.
His eyes flared with something possessive, a promise that made her stomach clench with anticipation.
“You sure about that?” His voice dropped to the low, commanding tone that had haunted last night’s dreams.
“Kiss me again and find out.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice.
* * * * *
Decker’s head spun with the taste of Willow. God, she was better than he ever imagined.
Her lips were soft and warm beneath his, and when she made that small sound of surrender in the back of her throat…
Christ, every rational thought fled his mind.
He’d been holding himself back for months, keeping his distance, pretending he didn’t notice the way her eyes lingered on him or how she found excuses to touch his arm when they talked.
