“No.” His blue eyes flare with annoyance, as if he’s picturing an alternative worse thanjust a date.“I like to dance, and there’s this really great place a couple of towns over that I go to twice a month.”
“Dancing.”
“Swing dancing, ballroom, Latin.” I shrug. “It depends on who’s in charge. I took lessons when I moved in with my dad, and it’s just something I’ve tried to keep up with.”
“Do you have a partner?”
“Are you volunteering?” I tease but lose my breath when Talon presses his lips to the inside of my wrist.
“Depends on what I’m up against.” His palm finds the back of my neck as he pulls me down, his mouth close to mine. “Depends on what we’re doin’ here, Cora.”
“I don’t know what we’re doing,” I admit as his tongue peeks out to swipe along my bottom lip. “I just—” I moan when he does it again.
“Use your words, Firecracker.”
“I want more, Talon.” My eyes drop to his lips then back up to meet his gaze, our faces so close our breath mingles, the smellof his mint candy and my vanilla lip balm in perfect harmony. “I like the way you made me feel and I just wantmore.”
His lips crash over mine as his arm bands around my back, pulling me into his lap, my legs straddling his as he pulls me impossibly closer.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he groans as he places hot, wet kisses down my neck.
“I need to tell you something else,” I manage and he pulls back, creating space I absolutely do not want but desperately need.
“I’m listening,” he rasps, his chest heaving, stretching the fabric of his shirt with each and every inhale.
I grin at the mix of wildness and sincerity in his eyes as I rake my fingers through his hair and tug until he grunts, his fingertips digging into my hips.
“I’m not ready for you to see my boobs.” I swallow but don’t look away. “I had a breast reduction after college that had some complications and required a second surgery. There’s scarring, and whileIlike them…” I trail off because sayingsome guys thought they look disgustingwas too hard to say.
“Fuck every single one of them,” he growls, his thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts. It’s sweet and reassuring, and I have to blink rapidly to keep the tears from falling. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you like them being touched? Or does it hurt?”
I open my mouth to speak and then frown as I try to remember the last guy I let actually feel my bare skin and not through some layer of fabric.
“It’s been a while since anyone but me really had a chance, but I do like them being touched.” I shrug because I won’t be embarrassed at enjoying getting myself off.
He smirks and nuzzles against my boobs through the cotton of my T-shirt until I laugh. “I cannot tell you how hot that is,” he murmurs.
“You gonna be dreaming about that?” My grip tightens in his hair as I pull him back to look at me.
“No question.” He tilts his face up to meet mine. “We’ll go at your pace. I’ll give you whatever you want. But when you’re ready, I promise to erase every thread of insecurity you have.”
“I hope you do.” Licking my lips, I add, “But right now I want your head between my legs,”—I brush my lips against his—“and then I want to ride your cock until we’re at risk of breaking this seriously ugly chair.”
“I happen to like this chair.”
“More than getting me naked?”
“Not even close,” he murmurs as he picks me up and places my feet on the ground, his hand immediately working open the button on my shorts. Talon drags the denim and my underwear down until they’re pooled at my feet. “No lace?”
“Lace is for dance nights.”
“I can assure you, Firecracker, you won’t be wearin’ lace for any other man but me.”
“Says who?”
