“It’s poisonous,” he finally says. “Every part of it. Beautiful, but deadly if you don’t know how to handle it.”
A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the night air. It has to do with the fact that his body has moved closer to mine. So close, I feel like he’s suddenly consuming my entire being.
“I’m a poison to you?”
“You are so much more than that, little Datura,” he whispers, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
There it is…lust. I can see it in his eyes and I don’t want to miss this chance. I don’t want to wonder what it would be like to choose something for myself, for once in my life. Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m on my tiptoes, pressing my lips to his.
For a second, he freezes. I’m about to pull away,mortified, when his hands clamp down on my waist so tightly, I might have bruises in the morning. He growls, a real, actual growl, and yanks me against him, crushing me to his chest. His mouth takes mine with a hunger that makes my head spin and my toes curl. This isn’t like any kiss I’ve ever imagined. Not even my books could prepare me for this. It’s raw and consuming. His lips are firm but soft, moving against mine with a confidence that leaves no room for doubt. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
When his tongue traces the seam of my lips, instinct takes over and I open for him. The first slide of his tongue against mine sends a shock through my whole body, pooling low in my belly. I’ve read about this…the way a kiss can melt you from the inside out, but nothing I’ve read comes close to the real thing. This is so much more….so much better.
My hands clutch his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle under the thin cotton of his shirt. His skin burns hot, even through the fabric. One of his hands slide up my back, tangling in my hair and pulling…tilting my head so he can kiss me deeper. The other hand presses into my lower back, holding me so tight I can feel every hard line of his body. Every. Hard. Line. I feel exactly how much he wants me and it sends a thrill through my body.
I’m drowning in the taste of him, the scrape of stubble against my chin and the heat of his breath. My knees go weak, but it doesn’t matter because he’s holding me up, like I weigh nothing. This is what it’s supposed to feel like. This is what I’ve been missing. I don’t think I want to go back.
When he finally pulls back, I’m literally gasping for air and his eyes have a wild look in them. His pupils are blown so wide there’s barely any color left and I watch as his chest heaves, matching my own desperate breathing.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, panic rising as I spot movement behind him. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Confusion flickers across his face, then something like hurt. He turns, following my gaze, and his whole body goes rigid. Two men stand about thirty feet away, watching us with blank faces. They’re cartel…they must be. I can see the bulge of weapons under their jackets. One has a scar running from temple to jaw. The other is built like a linebacker, his shirt straining at the shoulders.
Frankie’s arm wraps around my waist. It looks casual, but it feels anything but. It feels protective, maybe even possessive.
“Come on,” he says, voice light and neutral, but fake as hell. “It’s getting late.”
He hustles me out of the gardens, neither of us saying a word until we’re locked in the SUV with the engine running.
“Those are Rio’s men too, aren’t they?” I ask, my voice sounding small as we sit in the dark.
His hands tighten on the wheel, showing off the bruises on his knuckles that never seem to go away.
“Yes.”
“Do you think they’ll tell him what we did?” My stomach twists. “Will you be okay? I’ll tell him it was all me…that I started it.”
He glances at me with surprise before his face softens, just a little.
“It’s not what you think,” he says, pulling out of the lot. “They’re just doing their job.”
“Their job is spying on me?” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“Their job is keeping you safe.” His tone is flat and unreadable. “There are…complications…that you don’t understand.”
“I thought your job was to keep me safe. I just…I wanted my first kiss to be special and they ruined it.”
“That was your first?” Frankie laughs as he looks at me with shock written all overhis face.
My cheeks immediately go up in flames.
“Was it that bad?” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest.
A half-smile tugs at his mouth before he answers.
“No, actually. Quite the opposite.”
His words make my stomach flutter, and I have to look away so he doesn’t see how much it affects me. Internally, I’m giddy and jumping for joy. This man thinks the kiss we just shared…my first kiss…was good. The car pulls out and speeds along the empty highway, headlights slicing through the dark as I mull over the situation.
