Page 39 of Teasing a King

"Trust me?"

I do trust him, I realize suddenly. I know he wouldn't do anything to make me uncomfortable. I nod and follow him into the room. As I do, I realize this is the first time I’ve seen his bedroom since that brief tour before I’d moved in. When we were together before, we'd been in his room above the restaurant. I hadn’t taken time to look around and notice Van’s living space that night. I’d been too distracted by need and desire and Van.

Now, I glance around, taking in the sparsely furnished room. There’s not much to see. Either Van hasn’t had time to make the space his own, or he’s not the type to decorate his bedroom. There’s a dark wood dresser along one wall and a large bed with small tables on either side that match the dresser. The bed is unmade, the rumpled gray sheets setting my imagination alight with images of Van sleeping in it.

I can picture his large body lying there, the sheets pooled around his hips, chest bare, rising and falling with his even breaths. I imagine lying there beside him, trailing a hand over all that warm, hard muscle. I can’t help but picture my mouth following the path of my hands, kissing and licking, moving lower until I reach the barrier of the sheet. I’d pull it down and look my fill before taking him into my mouth and—I tear my gaze away from the bed, trying to cool my heated thoughts. I take a few steadying breaths, hoping my face isn’t too red. That’s not why Van brought me in here. At least, I don’t think it is.

Van seems oblivious to my wayward thoughts. He walks across the room to a door that I assume leads to the bathroom and pulls it inward until it closes. Now, I can see a full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door, reflecting our images back at us. I stop and stare at the reflection of us in the mirror. It's the first time I've seen what we look like together and the sight catches me off-guard. Van towers over me, his large frame dwarfing my 5 feet 3 inches. His hair is a few shades darker than mine, his skin a bit lighter. But his eyes. Even from here, those blue eyes are devastating. He moves to stand behind me and nods toward the mirror.

"Take a look," he says, pulling my attention back to the moment and away from the sight of us.

Confused, I follow his gaze. "What?" I turn to look back over my shoulder at him, but he shakes his head and nods toward the mirror.

"Look at yourself," he says, his voice softer. "Tell me what you see."

A confused smile curves my lips. "What do you mean?"

His hands come up to rest on my shoulders, sending a faint tremor through me. His gaze focuses on my reflection in the mirror. "Wanna know what I see?"

Something about his tone and the intensity of his blue eyes on me keeps me from speaking. I stand motionless, as my breath catches in my throat. I nod.

"I see a woman who's brave," he says, his thumbs circling gently over the bare skin on my shoulders. "Smart. Tough. Funny." He hesitates and I feel his breath on my neck as he exhales. "And sexy as hell.” He whispers the last part as though he hadn’t wanted to say it.

His words send a sharp spike of desire through me. I can't help but remember our one, wild night together. He's standing behind me, only a few inches separating his body from mine. I can feel the heat of him all along my back. If I lean back, only a little, I could be pressed against all the warm, hard muscles I remember from all those months ago. My heartbeat speeds up as I consider it. Van goes on, seemingly oblivious to my internal struggle.

"She's fierce," he murmurs. "Protective of the ones she loves. But soft when it matters. She doesn't let people in easily. But if you pay attention, her eyes can tell you what she's feeling."

I don't know what to think. How does he seem to know me so well? I didn't think I'd given away so much in such a short time with him. And he’d called me sexy. I know it’s silly to focus on that one sentence when he’d just given me so many other, more meaningful compliments. But I’ve felt decidedly unsexy lately, especially now that I can’t fit into any of my pants. So, it’s understandable when I ask my next question, right?

“You really think I’m sexy?” I whisper, eyes downcast.

I feel his fingers tense slightly on my shoulders. “Are you serious?” Van’s incredulous voice surprises me. “Hell yes! You’re incredible. How can you not see that?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m fast becoming a whale,” I say, adding a smile to make it seem more like a joke. But Van doesn’t laugh.

“You’re beautiful,” he says. “You’re not a whale, either. Your belly is growing along with our baby. You’re making a whole new human being. That’s amazing, you know. I’m in awe of you, Mya. I don’t know how you do it. Every time I see you, I think you look more beautiful than the last time. It’s all I can do to keep my hands off you, let alone my eyes. I keep telling myself to stop staring before you catch me.” His voice lowers. “I keep reliving that night, us together. How it felt to have you in my arms, in my bed.”

He shakes his head, eyes closed as if he’s in pain. “It’s all I can do not to pull you across the breakfast table every morning and onto my lap. Do I think you’re sexy? Mya, I’m walking around the house with a tent in my pants every day. It’s torture. Being here with you, seeing you every day, living with you, knowing how incredible you are and not being able to act on what I feel.”

My breath catches in my throat, and I think about his words. He’s just voiced everything I’ve been feeling since I came here. I can’t help but wonder if there’s a tent in his pants right now. My gaze drops lower, but he’s standing behind me and I can’t see what’s going on in those athletic shorts. I look up to see Van’s gaze on me, an amused smile quirking his lips after catching me looking.

I stare at our reflection in the mirror, watching his blue eyes roam over me. His hands are still on my shoulders, and I can’t help but wish they’d travel lower. I feel that spike of desire coil tighter inside me, making me wish I could clench my thighs together to ease the ache there. Even if I could, I know it wouldn’t work. It hasn’t so far. There’s only one thing that will ease the longing I’ve felt since coming back here. And I’m finding it harder to keep fighting the urge to reach for it. To reach for him. I clench my hands into fists, trying to resist.

“I had no idea,” I say softly.

He huffs a small laugh. “I guess I’m a better actor than I thought.”

I feel another whisper of need coil through me, and I suck in a deep breath, trying to still my racing heart. I lick my lips, watching Van’s eyes track the movement. Am I imagining the heat there? I don’t think I am.

“Van?” I whisper his name, unsure of what I plan to say.

He looks up to meet my gaze in the mirror, a question in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

My heart is pounding so loudly I wonder if he can hear it. I meet Van’s eyes, my gaze steady. We’re both still looking into the mirror, rather than at one another. It feels safer somehow. It’s probably the only reason I have the courage to say what I say next.

“What are my eyes saying right now?”

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