“Lower your shoulders,”he says into my mind.
I exhale slowly and force my shoulders to relax. Tiernan’s hand glides along my side and down over my waist, adjusting my hips once more. Tingling warmth blooms against my skin as his fingers trail up my arm. I grip the dagger tighter in my clammy palm, trying to keep my focus on the target rather than on the pleasant lurch in my stomach and eager quiver in my chest.
His body is so close to mine that I almostfeelhis teasing smirk. I certainly feel the tickle of his breath against my ear. I’m overtaken by the scent of him—of leather, citrus, and mint. I’m tempted to drop the dagger and lean back into his strong arms. I’ve done enough training today, haven’t I?
“Throw,” he says, snapping my attention back to the tree.
I fling my arm forward, following through after I release the hilt of the dagger. The blade spins haphazardly before bouncing right off the bark and plummeting to the grass below. Yet, Tiernan is all smiles when I face him, another dagger in his hand.
“Close,” he says, pressing the hilt into my palm again.
I glance down at the dagger, then back up at the handsome man before me. It’s hard to believe that mere months ago I would’ve wagered it was impossible for me to feel attraction, let alone such adoration for someone. Yet here we are.
Tiernan quirks a brow, waiting for me to say something, and a fresh wave of embarrassment comes over me. The weight of the dagger settles in my hand again. “That was supposed to be a no-spin throw,” I say. “It absolutely spun.”
He laughs. “So, it was a little overenthusiastic. You’ll get it next time.”
I’m focused on his lips when I realize that he’s signing something, but I’ve already missed most of it. Heat crawls up my neck as amusement plays over his face. “Perhaps we should take a break,” he says.
I hold the dagger out to him hilt first. “Excellent idea.”
Sheathing the blade at his waist, he steps a little closer and dips his head down to mine, waiting. I lift my face to his with every intention of offering him a brief, chaste kiss, but the moment our lips touch, my stomach dissolves into reckless flutters.
The echoes of uncertainty are silenced by the sweep of Tiernan’s tongue against the seal of my lips. I’m enraptured by the taste of him—jasmine tea and mint, and a burst of sweet and tart … passion? Lust? It flitters across my tongue, then skin, tactile as the breeze. The sensation takes me aback as my mind grapples between the desire to make sense of it and the longing to dive deeper.
I wind my arms around him, and my whole body tingles as his lips trail along my jaw and down to the side of my neck. I suck in a small breath as my stomach tightens with want. On instinct, I tilt my head to the side, allowing his lips to further explore my skin, each kiss igniting something greater within me. His hand slides down my arm, his fingers lacing with mine, and we rush inside.
The door barely closes before Tiernan presses me against the wooden surface, his lips on my neck again, butterflies dancing around my navel as aching heat builds in my core.
“Tiernan,” I manage to whisper as his lips brush against my collarbone.
Immediately he stops and I inwardly curse myself for interrupting. I desperately want to find relief for the buildingache, but— “We still need to talk.” I clap my hand over the first two buttons of my blouse. When did he even unfasten them?
His eyes are filled with carnal promises as he looks down at me. He kisses my fingers gently. “Alright, let’s talk.”
We walk over to the couch and sit down. But, for the life of me, I cannot get rid of the flustered feeling, or the lingering heat from his lips on my neck. I refasten the top two buttons of my blouse and exhale slowly. “I …”Words, Durvla.“Before you, I never kissed anyone.”
He doesn’t look surprised, only curious where I’m going with this conversation starter.
“I’ve also never …” I gesture vaguely, moving my open palm back and forth between us. “I never had aninteresteither.”
He smiles warmly, though concern seeps into his eyes. “I hope I’m not pressuring you.”
“No, but … I … No.” Gods, why is this so hard to say? “I don’t know if I’m ready. I mean, my body tells me otherwise, but this thing between us … I don’t even know if it needs defining. Perhaps I’m being unreasonable.”
“You’re not being unreasonable.” He rubs the back of his neck as he seems to mull over everything I’ve said. “What are your expectations?” he asks after a while.
I shrug. I haven’t been romantically involved with anyone before. I know it’s not the same for him, and I know the only other relationship I’m aware of ended in tragedy. Guilt and mild discomfort sink into me, clouding my mind. Maybe I should be askinghimwhathisexpectations are; what if I cannot live up to them? What if I fall short compared to the standard set by his past relationships?
His head tilts slightly, but I don’t bother to raise my mental shields—I try my hardest not to shy away. “Am I thinking too loud again?” I sign, sliding my teeth across my lower lip.
“Loud and clear.” His smile is gentle. “But this is aboutus. Maura was my past. You are my—present.”
My brow lifts. He’d quickly changed the direction of the hand sign, but I’d caught the beginning of it anyway.
Future.
My heart nearly leaps out of my chest—I cannot decipher if it’s from excitement or fear. He thinks I am his future?
