I can’t—oh gods—I can’t breathe.The laugh that forces its way out of my throat is almost a scream.
“He got real mad,” Mahon admits. “Threw a croissant at my head.”
Unable to even sit upright any longer, I lie out flat, facedown on the blanket, wondering if I’ll die of this laughter and realizing I’m so happy in this moment that I’d be okay if this was the way I went. Giggling myself to death, next to a charmingly oblivious bear.
Eventually, I calm down enough to turn my head and meet Mahon’s warm gaze.
His mouth curves at the corners when our eyes catch. “I used to think the buzz of a honeybee was the most beautiful sound in the world. But your laugh kicks that sound in the nuts.”
“That’s sweet. I think.” I push myself upright, wondering if I’ll ever be able to predict the next thing out of his mouth.
“I’d like this to be considered a date.”
Guess not.
I only hesitate for a second, and that’s so I can catch up with the change in conversation.
“Okay.”Why not?
The guy is handsome and funny and brought me food and said my laugh is beautiful. What would this be if it wasn’t a date?
“Awesome. We’re on a date. How am I doing?” Mahon leans forward, his bare chest with its heavy muscles and blanket of ginger curls threatening to distract me.
“Do you want to be ranked on a scale?” I’ve never given a man feedback on a date before.
“The only scale I care about is if I’m doing good enough for a kiss or not.”
At his words, I’m drawn back to the night of the dark moon. More accurately, the morning after, when his lips briefly touched mine. That gentle pressure set off a turbulent storm in my body, one that hasn’t fully abated.
What would happen if we really kissed? Deeply? For a prolonged amount of time?
For one, I’d probably feel more connected to a person than I have in a while. In years.
The temptation drives my answer. “Yes. You are doing that well.”
Mahon’s face lights up, this time not with a blush, but with shining joy. As if getting the chance to kiss me is a magnificent gift. As if he sees me the way I’ve always hoped someone would.
Suddenly, the world shifts, and I realize the bear has scooped me up in his arms, drawing me into his lap. With an assured palm on my ass, Mahon lifts and tilts me until I’m able to settle my knees on either side of his hips, pressing into the softblanket. The heat from his thighs soaks into the scales on my legs, and I allow him to arrange my arms around his neck.
“Is this good for you?” he asks once we’re still, facing each other.
On top of him like this, I’m simultaneously in control and surrounded. My normally thin lips now feel plump, eager for his mouth. My wings quiver in anticipation.
“Yes. I’m good.” To prove it, I cross the scant distance between us, taking what he offers.
Mahon is hot as sunshine and just as soothing. Just as dangerous. Because as I move my mouth over his plush one, I sense the cells in my body begging to connect with his. Threatening to wither if ever removed from his presence, like a plant pulled from daylight and shut up in a basement.
Will I be the same after this?
Mahon parts his lips on a deep breath, allowing me to delve into him. I flick my tongue along his, tasting watermelon and sugar and the darker flavor of man. The combination is so good that I suck, reveling in the moan I draw from him.
Weight on my back. Hands pressing against my hard scales, drawing upward until the searching touch meets the joints of my wings. I gasp into the kiss, unfamiliar with contact on that part of my body. Even I have a hard time reaching the place on my shoulder blades where my wings extend.
“Good?” Mahon asks with his lips moving against mine.
“Amazing,” I respond before dragging my tongue along his.
My reward comes as fingers massage into the neglected area. As if he found a hidden button, my wings snap wide, and I’m glad we’re outside. No accidental destruction from them knocking knickknacks off shelves.
