A breathy laugh escaped me. “Smooth, Corvo. But I’m not sure what you have in mind is good for your stitches.”
“Mason can just stitch me up again.” His fingers tightened at my waist, tugging me flush. “It would be worth it, little raven.”
“You’re impossible,” I murmured, my lips grazing his as I spoke. His breath caught, the subtle hitch betraying just how awake he suddenly was. “Just a kiss,” I promised softly. I leaned in, brushing my mouth over his, but the moment our lips touched, we both knew just a kiss was a lie.
One kiss was never enough.
Not with him.
Not anymore.
His mouth claimed mine again, deeper and hungrier, before I even finished drawing breath.
And I let him.
25
KREED
Sunlight cut a pale, geometric line across the rumpled blankets and landed directly on her hair when she pushed through the door in all her messy bun glory. My stomach unclenched at the sight of her as I ignored the persistent ache radiating along my stitched ribs. The room smelled like fresh coffee and something savory.
She balanced a wooden tray with two ceramic steaming mugs, a plate with scrambled eggs, three strips of bacon, and toast cut diagonally. I couldn’t stop staring at her. The way she set the tray down on the nightstand with care to avoid spilling. How she perched on the very edge of the mattress. The oversized tee she wore completely swallowing her smaller frame. The delicate motion of her fingers curling around one mug’s handle.
Who would have thought my type was a girl rumpled from sleep, not a stitch of makeup, and smelling like bacon. She was stunning, and I easily got lost in her big, light-blue eyes too damn often.
“Morning,” she greeted with a shy smile.
Easing upright in bed, I took it slow, leaning against a puff of pillows. “No one has ever brought me breakfast in bed before,” I said,lifting one of the mugs to my lips. The coffee was perfect, strong and slightly bitter, exactly how I took it.
She picked up the other cup and peered at me from over the rim. “I hope that’s because no other girl has ever slept in your bed before me.”
Our arms brushed, creating a zing of electricity. “I broke every rule with you.”
She leaned forward without warning and pressed her mouth to mine. The kiss unfolded a fierce protectiveness within me. When she finally pulled back, her face was beautiful in the golden morning light streaming through the window. “Good,” she whispered before crawling in beside me. “How are you feeling? Really?” she asked. “Don’t give me a bullshit tough-guy answer.”
“Just a little sore. Nothing I can’t handle.” I shrugged, my attention mentally moving to the white bandage taped down my left side. The line of stitches along my ribs was tight and pulled, but, mercifully, the pain was more like a deep bruise than an actively infected wound, no angry heat spreading from the site, no fever burning through my skin, and no alarming redness indicating complications.
She frowned as if she didn’t believe me, worry carving at the corners of her mouth and between her brows. “You could have gotten hurt so much worse last night.”
“Don’t do that.” I brushed the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip to stop the trembling. It was so fucking weird having someone care so much about me. I wasn’t used to it, having to worry about someone else’s feelings, about how what I did and said could impact them. It fucked with my head…and my heart. “I’m seriously okay. We’re okay.”
With an unsteady breath, she nodded and forced those kill-me-now pouty lips into a weak smile.
I didn’t care that she would probably be happier and safer with someone else. She was mine. I wanted her with me. I wanted her to love me.
“You ever get stabbed again, and I swear I’ll boil your balls,” she threatened. I adored when she got violent.
“What about gunshot wounds? You have any creative threats for those?”
Her middle finger shot up, and I chuckled, which I instantly regretted, the jiggly movement sending a painful reminder of my injuries.
I suppressed a wince and picked up a strip of bacon. Rusty thought he could send out a couple of guys to pick me up, no doubt to hold me hostage for information, much like I had his guys when I’d been looking for Kaylor. But if Rusty thought he could use me to get to Kaylor, he was sorely mistaken. “Save your threats, little raven. I’m sure my father will have plenty to say when he hears about it.”
“He’s gone,” she informed.
My gaze narrowed suspiciously. “And how do you know that?”
Kaylor shrugged. “I saw him leave this morning.” She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, gnawing on the inside of her cheek.
