Her mesmerizing, dark gaze doesn't move from mine, pinning me in place as she studies me.
"Romance doesn't come naturally to me," Maven begins hesitantly. "I'm abysmal at expressing myself unless it's with a blade, but I know that you're terrified of hurting me with your curse."
What an understatement. Even now, anxiety has frost climbing up my arms as I subtly try to move away, just in case my proximity to my keeper will somehow do her harm.
I can't stand the idea of ruining everything we could have together. I shouldn't be alone with this gorgeous, confident, brave enigma, and I shouldn't be aching for her like this.
Massage oil? What the fuck was I thinking? I can’t massage her—she won’t like my cold hands on all that smooth skin. Gods above, I hate myself for how badly I want her when I could end up hurting her.
When I take another step back, Maven steps forward until I'm backed against one of the counters with nowhere to go. I try to swallow again but fail.
"Maven…" I warn.
"I want to show you there's nothing to be afraid of."
"But what if?—"
"Everett." She reaches up to brush her fingers through my hair. "I want you. Do you want me?"
So fucking much it hurts.
But I only manage to nod, my hands itching to land on her hips and close the space between us.
"Good. That's all we need," my keeper insists.
"But—"
"Your curse is supposed to kill anyone you fall for. I know." Her gaze is both astute and careful at once. “So tell me. Why hasn’t it hurt me?”
My heart is pounding. She's right. It's the most obvious thing in the world that I've fallen for her, so why hasn't my curse done anything to her yet?
Unless…what if…
A new idea forms, steeling itself in my mind. A realization that should have dawned ages ago—one so unpleasant that it takes me a moment to breathe again once my world stops adjusting on its axis.
If what I suspect is true…
Fuck, I should’ve known.
I don’t say anything because there’s no fucking way that I’m going to letthemruin this moment when Maven is looking up at me with the beautiful kaleidoscope of dark colors that make up her irises.
Instead of saying something, I finally pull her closer to close the gap between our bodies. Her perfect warmth soothes the cold shards of hurt that started spiraling inside me with my realization.
I feel like I'm in some torturously tempting dream with this gorgeous woman looking up at me with dark, playful eyes. I want this so fucking badly, but what if I say or do the wrong thing and wake up in a cold sweat with a raging hard-on to realize this fantasy was nothing but a dream?
I can't mess this up.
“I don’t—I mean, if you…the massage might make me, um...”
Damn it. I'm already messing it up.
Maven fights a laugh, her eyes glittering like she's genuinely enjoying watching my struggle. Knowing her, she probably is.
"You're adorable when you're nervous.”
I blow out a breath, covering my face. "I've never been this fucking nervous before. It’s just that massaging you will make me even more…” I trail off, realizing how that would sound.
“Horny?”
