“And what about you?” Those greeneyes burned straight through me, obliterating whatever line of defense I’dstill try to use against him. “We both know the food truck isn’t your end game.You want a kitchen, Vera. How are you going to get it?”
“Listen, I made my bed. I’m happy tolie in it. There are worse things than owning your own business and settingyour own hours.”
One side of his mouth lifted in asardonic smile, calling me on my bullshit. “We both know the truck isn’t bigenough for you. And if you ever figure out how to set reasonable hours, let meknow your trick.”
I didn’t want to get into this rightnow. My life was complicated enough without having the great Killian Quinnreminding me of everything I didn’t have. He was held back by loyalty tosomeone he considered a brother. I was trapped because of a series of bad,unfortunate decisions. They weren’t the same thing.
Just to get him off my back, Idecided to suggest the most preposterous thing imaginable. “Fine. You wantsomething bigger, I want something bigger, let’s just open a restauranttogether. It can be all modern American and convenient hours. For us. Not ourcustomers.”
He slid off the counter and took myglass of wine from me. Carefully setting it off to the side, he stepped betweenmy legs again and rested his hands on my waist, beneath my t-shirt. Skin tohot, rough, glorious skin.
He tugged me forward so that mythighs wrapped firmly around his hips. He stood tall enough so that we wereperfectly lined up, his chest pressed against my chest, his heart beating inrhythm with mine.
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,”he murmured, dropping slow kisses along the line of my jaw.
My mind was already swimming withlust, but not far enough gone to recognize how preposterous that was. “You havenot.” I laughed, trying to play off his serious tone and the ridiculous idea.
His lips found mine, and he kissedme deeply, tangling our tongues, bringing our bodies as close together aspossible with our clothes still on. “Since your lamb meatballs.”
I pulled back, stunned by thehonesty in his tone and the timeline of events. That was so long ago.
He had to be lying.
This was a trick to get in my pants.But newsflash, Killian, I wasn’t exactlyplaying hard to get!
He didn’t let me dwell on it,though. He closed the distance between us, devouring my mouth like it was thebest thing he’d ever tasted.
My fingers slid through his silkyhair, holding him to me while we spent time getting to know each other inintimate ways. He removed my shirt completely, exposing me to the cool air andhis sizzling gaze.
He laid me back on the stainlesssteel prep table, taking in every inch of my body in such an appreciative waythat it was impossible to feel self-conscious. I wasn’t skinny. And while I hadnever been overly embarrassed of what I looked like, it was impossible not tobe nervous. But the voracious hunger flashing through those deep green eyestook away whatever anxiety I had.
Killian liked what he saw. Every pieceof me.
And then he showed me. Using hismouth, his tongue, his teeth, to taste every inch of my body. He started at mythroat and worked his way down. My collarbone. My breasts. Especially mybreasts. My stomach. My hips.
He spread my legs apart and spent amaddening amount of time at the apex of my thighs. By the time my pantiesdisappeared, I was a panting mess of desire and need. He coaxed me to relax andwhispered about wanting dessert.
My thoughts alternated between,Oh, my God!AndOh, my God, we’re atLilou!
Then his head disappeared between mylegs, and I stopped thinking altogether. He turned me into nothing but feelingand sensation and pleasure.
He was as relentless with my body ashe was with everything else in his life. He demanded. He pushed. He took whathe wanted. But he gave, too.
Hegave so much.
By the time he walked me to my car,I was fully sated—and completely, utterly wrung dry. And so far gone for thisman that I didn’t know if I would ever recover.
Derrek had convinced me to love himwith tempting possibilities and groundless promises. They hadn’t lasted. Theyhadn’t been enough. Even without the abuse, Derrek and I wouldn’t have made it.He wasn’t what he said he was. He didn’t live up to everything he offered.
He was less than.
He was empty.
Killian was the opposite. He didn’tconvince me to love him; he’d given me so much of himself that the only thingleft to do was care about this man. He’d proven himself time and time again tobe the man he said he was, the man he wanted to be.
The man I needed.
He hadn’t asked me to trust him;he’d just always been trustworthy. He hadn’t needed me to need him. He was justthe man I needed every single day. He hadn’t manipulated me through sugar sweetlies and baseless compliments I wanted to hear. He told me what I needed tohear and left everything else up to me.
