I had time to think that I should probably say something sensible. But then I did what I apparently did best around him and gave in to impulse. I stood, stepped around the tiny table, and kissed him.
It wasn’t graceful. My knee hit the table leg on the way around, which felt tragically on brand. But then I was there, one hand braced on the back of his chair, and my mouth on his.
For one suspended second, he didn’t move. Then he made a low noise in his throat and pulled me onto his lap as the chair groaned in protest. His hands came to my waist, strong and possessive, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
His mouth was even warmer than I’d remembered, more confident. He tasted like coffee and something wilder, something that made a shiver work its way down my spine. One of my hands slid from the back of the chair to the base of one horn, my fingers brushing the solid curve.
He rumbled against my mouth, a sound that vibrated through my entire body. A big hand splayed against my back, pulling me closer until there was no space between us at all. I could feel the hard strength of his chest, his warmth radiating through my thin sweater, and the soft texture of the fur along his arms as they tightened around me.
I had never been kissed like this before. With such certainty. With such restraint barely containing something vast and hungry and wonderful. Every nerve in my body lit up, and every thought in my head scattered like dust.
Then the break room door swung open.
“Clara, have you seen the?—”
Brenda stopped dead. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She took one look at me on Rion’s lap, my hands on his horns, and her expression became a masterpiece of gleeful shock.
“I’ll,” she said, “go and check the supply closet.”
The door closed, and I buried my face in Rion’s shoulder. My entire body went hot with embarrassment.
“Kill me now,” I muttered.
His arms stayed around me, solid and steady. “I don’t recommend it.”
A choked laugh escaped me against his neck. “You’re terrible at comforting people.”
“You aren’t dead,” he said. “That is sufficient comfort.”
I pulled back enough to look at him.
“Well,” I said faintly.
His eyes were dark, focused entirely on me.
“Yes,” he said.
“That was…”
“Yes,” he said again, and somehow the second time was worse.
I laughed, half breathless and half embarrassed. “I was going to say ‘unexpected,’ but that would be a lie.”
His thumb moved once against my waist, and I shivered, fighting the urge to kiss him again.
“Not unexpected,” he agreed, tucking me against him as he reached for my sandwich. “Finish your lunch.”
I did, somehow, even though every cell in my body was still vibrating. I couldn’t tell you what I ate. I only knew that the room felt smaller, the air warmer, and every breath I took carried the memory of his mouth on mine.
The afternoon reading group gave me enough to do that I could not spend every second thinking about the kiss.
Only most of them.
Rion remained in the library after the delivery, ostensibly browsing architecture and mythology. I kept catching sight of him between the stacks, and every time I did, my stomach flipped.
Once, I saw him help an elderly patron reach a book on a high shelf. He bent with that same careful gentleness he had shown Jeremy, and she patted his arm afterward as if a giant horned male helping her with biographies was the most natural thing in the world.
Maybe it should have been.
