AMBROS
The tasteof Citi is something that will sear itself into my memory for years to come. I try to hold myself back, but I feel like an addict craving more. I deepen the kiss, reveling in the feel of her pressed against me. When her tongue slides against mine tentatively, I have to swallow a moan so I don’t distract her innocent curiosity.
My cock throbs, and it takes everything I have not to strip her bare and slip inside her. I’ve never felt so close to losing control before, and sure as shit not from just a kiss.
At the sound of something being dropped just outside the room, she jolts and pulls away. She licks her swollen lips and stares up at me in wonder, and goddamn if that expression alone doesn’t make me feel like a fucking king.
“Thank you.”
I grin. “It should be me thanking you. Best fucking gift I ever received.”
She grins back shyly at me. I get to my feet and offer her my hand, pulling her up. She collides with my chest, but neither of us moves away.
“You want to grab something to eat? We can pick up Star if you want, or we can go out on our own. I’m easily pleased.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“That depends. Would you say yes?”
She hesitates, chewing her lip as she tries to figure out what she wants to do. “I want to. I won’t lie and say I’m not shit scared over the whole thing though.”
“You don’t need to be scared, not with me. I’m never going to make you do something you don’t want to. Anything that happens between us happens at your pace. You have all the power here.”
“Okay. Then I’d like to go for something to eat—just me and you. Nevaeh wanted to spend some time with Star when Havoc was done with her lessons anyway.”
“Perfect. You in the mood for anything in particular?”
She shakes her head. “Surprise me.”
Knowing she won’t be up for anything fancy or overly crowded, I decide to take her somewhere I know she’ll feel comfortable. Once I have her on my bike, I head to The Book Nook, grinning like an idiot when I feel her arms tighten around me. I don’t know if she’s even consciously doing it.
When we pull up, I help her off the bike and tug her helmet off, leaving it on the handlebars along with mine. I take her hand and lead her inside, the bell above the door signaling our arrival. I don’t see Delphi around, but I’m sure she’ll turn up at some point. I order a coffee and a hot chocolate and snag a menu before ushering Citi to one of the corner tables with the oversized armchairs.
She smiles when she sits, kicking off her sneakers before curling her feet underneath her. “I love it here. I don’t feel like I’m missing some social cue. I can just be me. I wonder if Delphi would let me wear my PJs next time?”
I laugh, sliding her drink closer to her. “I don’t think Delphi would object to anything if it meant you felt more comfortable.”
“That’s sweet. The first time that I properly met her, I found her a little intimidating, but it didn’t take long to realize it’s a shell she wears.”
“Ah, yes, her prickly shell. That’s why Kruger calls her Chestnut.”
She chuckles. “It works. She’s always been really nice to me and Star. In the beginning, I think Havoc and Nevaeh brought me around to see her because we both had a traumatic story that might bond us.”
“I sense a but coming on…”
“They mean well. And like I said, I really like Delphi. But we went through something similar and yet something worlds apart. Delphi pushes people away to keep herself from getting hurt. I don’t want to keep people away. I just don’t know how to let them in. I don’t understand people all that well. Hell, I don’t even understand myself. It’s a lot to figure out, and it makes me feel like I’m doggy paddling in the deep end with no way of getting out.” She blows out a frustrated breath. “I get that trauma is trauma. It’s not more or less than someone else’s, even if on the surface it seems like some people have experienced it worse. Because in the end, it’s all subjective. It’s how people process it, how they deal with it, and ultimately how they heal from it. That’s where the differences occur—not in the event, but in the aftermath.”
I tilt my head, letting her words seep in. She’s right.
“Don’t get me wrong, I think we’ll be friends once we get to know each other better, but that’s more to do with having friends and likes in common—like books and pastries—than the fact that men abused us.”
“So basically, you want us to back off?”
She huffs out a laugh, part humorously, part exasperation. “Just let things be. I might have been locked away for half my life, but even I know women have a tendency to work things out when men don’t interfere.”
I hold my hands up in capitulation. “Yes, ma’am.”
She grins, scanning the menu before she settles on what she wants. “I think I’ll have the mozzarella and pesto panini.”
