A thoughtful look crossed his angular face and then he shook his head slowly. "The idea of him, anyone, holding your hand, making you laugh. The idea of someone else kissing you, felt like something was being ripped from me. And I have no fucking right to feel that way, Eloise. I know that. I knowyouknow that." He cupped her face between both hands and for a moment she felt fully intact like she was exactly where she should be in this world, in this moment, with this man.
He was right. He had no right, if he couldn't love her and therefore couldn't be hers, he had no right to be jealous of someone who could.
But the way that the world around them felt- like the stars and the moon and the earthy dirt beneath them had conspired and were now closing a veil around them for privacy...
Her heart was pounding and it was expanding and she was so in love with what he was saying and how he was looking at her, and she was also scared.
He shook his head again, that furrowed golden brow drawing her eyes. She wanted to lovingly smooth the lines away, but was too afraid to move.
"I shouldn't be here, Eloise. But I needed, just once, to be selfish." His eyes bore into hers, a tangling of bright blue and amber and she felt it inside of her. "Please don't hate me," he whispered and it was her turn to frown but then his hand slid to the back of her head and with his other hand his thumb tipped up her chin as he pressed her against the shelves giving her only enough time to let out a gasp before he took her mouth.
She was stiff and unyielding at first, but then as his mouth moved and coaxed, his thumb brushed over her cheek, she softened and molded against him. That small acquiescence was a blessing that he felt he could have kneeled down for and he made a deep, throaty sound as he took the kiss deeper.
The memory of their first kiss ghosted through both of their minds as they fitted together perfectly, but they both knew this would be more, deeper. Those kisses before had been romantic.
This was hunger.
This was a dream that would go nowhere.
Her taste was sweet and he had never been able to quite pinpoint what she smelled like but her taste was like an exacerbation of that smell and it was comforting and right now exploding with passion. He could taste it for hours and not get tired of it. Too much of a good thing did not apply with Eloise Snowdrop Willow.
He had thoughts of starlight and perfectly dripping espresso, laughter and lacy hydrangeas blooming as his mouth explored hers.
She had thoughts of cedar wood fitting together to make a house frame, a young man protecting his scared mother at too tender an age, and campfires flickering against the black night.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, her response to him no longer tentative, but echoing his passion in equal measure. When he lightly nipped her lip she moaned the sweetest sound that went straight through him and made him groan because he had just wanted a taste.
He was only allowed a taste.
He shouldn't even be touching her, this beautiful, wonderful woman, because what could he offer her if he couldn't offer her everything?
Right now he cursed those thoughts, threw them to the dark skies to deal with later, and picked her up as he pulled his mouth from hers.
"Wrap your legs around me," he urged in a deep, gravelly voice. Her amber eyes were dazed and when she complied, he rewarded her with a kiss at that perfectly tender spot beneath her ear, sucking on the skin and drawing out a gasp from her lips. "I hate how good you taste," he lamented as he carried her through the stock room and into the cafe to set her down on the coffee bar. She still had to look up at him and she did with hooded, passionate eyes. "I hate how much I have thought about doing this since you accidentally forced me on a blind date. " He smirked but before she could retort he grabbed the back of her neck and said, "Since I finally got a taste after that night at the club." Then he took her mouth again. He kissed her, took in her taste, felt her body respond and tremble against him in that ancient whisper.
When he laid her back on the bar he looked down at her, his eyes so bright blue that she couldn't look away. She felt overwhelmed and like she wasn't entirely solid and there was something like an edge in his voice, almost an angry tone to his words as he slowly unhooked her overalls slowly.
"I fucking loved that date. It was the best twenty minute date I've ever had with another person." He slid her overalls down herbody and ran his hands over the tops of her thighs. "I can't take you, not how I want. Not how I think about late at night when I'm alone in bed or the shower and believe me," his blue eyes pinned her with that nearly angry edge as he said, "the things I would do to you if I were a worse man, you would love." She bit her lip, her sensitive body responding to his dark words. "And if I were a better man I wouldn't even be doing this to you. But I need to do this, to give you this." He hooked his thumbs in the sides of her very unsexy white, cotton panties and slid them over her hips. And one more time he looked at her and whispered, "Please don't hate me," before he tasted her a different way.
Taylor's strong hands grasped the tops of her bare thighs roughly before he pulled her to the edge of the bar where he sat on one of the velvet stools between them. His eyes shone as she heaved out a breath, waiting. The only sound in the cafe was a ticking clock and the rain dropping against the roof and windows. The low glow of the bar light was the only illumination other than strands of cafe lights dotting the ceiling. Just when she was about to ask him something, anything, the silence too much, he leaned forward and breathed against her in a warm breath that made her close her eyes and gasp.
Just that slight touch. Not even a touch yet. The hot air from his lungs against her overly sensitive center and she was limp and needy. Had she ever felt this way? Like she was dangerously close to something catastrophic.
When the tip of his tongue touched her she slapped her hands onto the bar, squeezing her eyes shut. Light, little licks.
They might as well have been small flames, touching, cajoling, teasing.
She could feel him breathe her in and pause. When she opened her eyes she saw him bent there between her legs as if in prayer, his own eyes closed as he savored her.
She'd never been savored before.
And then his hands on her thighs squeezed hard as his mouth took her. Fully. The hunger was an animal she could feel he was holding back as he tasted her. She cried out then bit her lip against the sound that filled the moody coffee shop.
But she felt him pull back and whisper, "Don't."
She opened her eyes, her chest heaving as her eyes connected with his.
"Don't be quiet. Moan for me, Eloise. I want to hear you. I don't get to have much, but this I want."
