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I stare, trying to make sense of what I’m feeling because I’m not as scared as I think I should be. I know far better than anyone that if I play with a tiger, I should expect to be bitten. But I don’t think Teague will bite me. I don’t think he’s scary. I don’t think he’s cruel or mean or evil. At least not to me.

“What are you thinking, hummingbird? What’s got that curious little brain of your all atwitter?”

“T-twitter?” I laugh at the absurdity of this man with the broad muscles and deep voice using such a silly word, all while the way his accent curls around the syllables has the muscles deep in my belly pulling tight.

“Mm. You like that? The way I say atwitter? What else might I say that you’d enjoy?” His gaze takes a leisurely assessment, touching on each of my features, lingering on my mouth before settling on my eyes and staying there. I’m almost squirming by the time he whispers, “Is tú mo ghrá geal.”

My breath catches in my lungs, and my heart stills before trying to break free. “What d-does that m-mean?”

“You are my shining love. My bright love.”

“That-that’s… It doesn’t make me laugh,” I say unnecessarily. It’s stupidly obvious to both of us that I’m not laughing.

“Ah, but did you enjoy it?” Teague’s gaze dips back to my mouth as if he needs my response so badly, he wants to see it and experience it, not just hear the words.

“I, um, I d-don’t think it f-f-fits.”

He moves slowly, placing his hand on the side of my neck, his thumb sliding back and forth across my lower lip. His eyes are molten pools of milk chocolate that I would gladly drown in. “Hummingbird, there is nothing more fitting.”

Chapter 9

Ruined

TEAGUE

I stare into her eyes, my gaze bouncing back and forth, left to right. How does she not see her own brightness? How does she not see the way she brings light into a room, that it glows around her like a halo? That she is the embodiment of light itself…

My muscles tighten under her touch as I crunch up to press my lips against hers. They’re soft, incredibly soft, and supple. Everything I imagined.

Everything I hoped wouldn’t be true.

Because now that I’ve tasted her, I don’t ever want to let her go. Not that that was ever really an option anyway. Being in the next room, the suite across the hall, the office on the other side of the house is way too far. Letting her go? Yeah, not happening.

I tease the seam of her lips and suck on her lower lip. When I nibble, sinking my teeth into the tender flesh, she gasps the sweetest sigh. And that’s my in. I sweep my tongue inside her mouth and drink her in.

She’s fucking delicious. Addicting. And I want more.

I frame her face in my palms, then slide one behind her head and angle her so I can deepen the kiss.

She’s hesitant, almost clumsy in the way she kisses me back, her fingers pressing hard against my pecs. Tension. There’s tension in the way she’s holding herself above me.

I back off, slowing the kiss before pulling back to check in on her. “Are you okay?”

Truie’s eyes are dazed, not with fear but maybe…maybe something better. She nods slowly, her hands finally relaxing, her shoulders becoming more pliant. “I’m, um… Yes?”

She bounces on my chest as it rumbles with my chuckle.

“You don’t sound sure.”

“I’m n-not. Not really.” Her curls tumble, framing her face in a pale cloud. A bright cloud.

She’s not frozen in fear, not trembling. Her eyes aren’t vacant. All good signs, but I want to give her a minute to see if any of that changes. So, I bring us back to before I rocked my fucking world with tasting her. It’s probably not a bad idea to calm myself as well.

“Then answer my question, what had your cheeks lifting in laughter? What had you staring so intently at me?”

She searches the space just to the left of where my head rests against the headboard, like she has to sift through memories to find the answers. “You… You laughed. You’re ticklish?”

“I am. Terribly so.” I reach for her hand and move it back to my pec and hold it there, almost positive she won’t slide it down across my ribs to the exact spot that holds my secret. There are precious few people who know I’ll crumble into a giggling mess if properly tickled. “What else? You were thinking of something big before I giggled.”