I sat up, tracking Anthony across the small apartment as he squatted down and pulled the plates and forks out of a cabinet near the floor with a masculine grace that made a shiver roll down my spine.
I loved his hands. I loved how he could make a beautiful picture in what seemed like seconds with just a pencil and build a motorcycle from almost scratch without breaking a sweat.
I’d recently learned what other magic he could accomplish with his hands and fingers. I crossed my legs to halt the rush of heat between my thighs that the memory triggered.
“I had you going, didn’t I?” I shot him a devious grin as I scooped the noodles onto a plate and handed it to him.
His eyes narrowed to slits as he took it. “Thank you. And yes, you did. I was sick to my stomach until you texted me during lunch.”
I giggled, so damn happy with myself as I twirled the noodles around my fork. “How do you know Gary?”
Anthony squared his shoulders as he swallowed the first bite.
“Why do you ask?”
His tone was as rigid as his body when he set his fork down. The flirty playfulness between us whooshed out of the room, and I had no clue as to why.
“He used to come to my old elementary school and give talks on court and law to the older kids. I never really knew what he did, I guessed maybe a lawyer or something. Mr. O’Connor loved bringing in people in all kinds of professions to talk to us. I think he even had Dad come in to talk about working as a mechanic.”
Anthony sat stoic in his folding chair. “Who’s Mr. O’Connor?”
“Reid, his cousin. He’s Dad’s best friend, but he started out as my school principal, so I can’t call him Reid without feeling weird. I’ve seen Gary at parties they’ve had for their kids over the years, but I don’t know much about what he does. He’s a nice guy, though.”
I spied Anthony’s shoulders relax.
“He’s a friend of the family. He was in the neighborhood and wanted to catch up.” Anthony went back to his plate but didn’t look up.
“Did I say something wrong?” I reached across the snack table and draped my hand over his.
He picked up my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist before exhaling a long breath. “It feels a little too good to be true to have you here like this.”
I’d spot these flashes of, something, in Anthony’s eyes sometimes. As if there was so much he wanted but couldn’t take it because he felt unworthy.
He was worth everything, but I was at a constant loss as to how to make him believe that.
I stood and made my short way over to his side of the table and planted myself on his lap.
“Sometimes it feels that way to me, too. I spent so long trying to talk myself out of how I felt about you because, well first you didn’t want anything to do with me.” I lifted a brow.
“Trust me when I say that was never the case.” He slid his hand to the nape of my neck, the slide of his thumb back and forth over my skin relaxing and exciting me all at once. “Staying away from you was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.”
“Then I liked you so much, I thought if I confessed that I wanted more than just to be your friend, I’d lose you altogether. And I would have hated that. Now that we’re finally here, can’t we just enjoy it?” I ran my hand down his chest. “Please.” I inched kisses across his cheek until I got to his mouth.
“You had me before you even spoke to me. Those eyes, those lips.” His thumb drifted across my bottom lip. “Then the way you lit up talking about Spawn.”
A chuckle escaped me at his playful smile.
“I like you, too. So damn much.”
His mouth covered mine, but unlike the kiss before this was slow. He took his time, dipping his tongue between the seam of my lips and easing inside. His fingers delved into my hair as he tilted his head, kissing me harder but savoring instead of rushing.
My shaky hands grabbed onto his arms, my nails digging into his biceps every time his tongue curled around mine. He was even an artist in this, painting the inside of my mouth with long, deliberate strokes. My fingers speared into his hair as I whimpered into his mouth.
“Tell me what you want, beautiful girl,” he whispered against my lips, squeezing my leg as his hand crept higher.
“You.” I framed his face. “I’m not going anywhere. If you want me, I’m yours.”
A growl erupted from his throat, and he stopped going slow. Our kiss caught fire as the chair creaked under us, the both of us pulling at each other’s clothes while I buried my head into the crook of his neck, dragging my lips over the tease of his tattoo and pulling his shirt down so my mouth could explore the rest of it.
