Page 39 of Spinning Out Of Control

“I love these plaques. They’re all over the park. Do you think this was a dedication from someone’s lover?” I ask. Kira turns, reading the inscription on the bronze plaque behind her. Her cheeks go pink, but when she turns back to me, she’s already mid-eye roll.

Her poor face is going to get stuck like that if she keeps it up.

“Sit down and eat your street meat, Warren,” she orders. And like the desperate little puppy she’s turned me into, I obey.

“What’s with you ordering my food for me? What if I don’t like mustard and sauerkraut?” I ask as she chews. Honestly, the food smells heavenly, but I’m still curious.

“You’ll like it, trust me. Eat, Warren.”

“Bossy woman,” I mutter as I bring the hot dog to my mouth, the flavors instantly exploding on my tongue. The bite of the mustard coats my taste buds in a delicious, spicy warmth that is well balanced by the sour tang of the sauerkraut. The dog itself is delicious, the bite providing the perfect snap. I can’t help the groan that escapes my lips as I go back for another taste.

“Told you,” Kira says, the smugness in her voiceevident. I can’t even be bothered to pester her for it, not when I’ve got to get this delicious sandwich–is a hot dog a sandwich? I’ve got to get this delicious combination of meat, bread and condiments into my stomach as quickly as humanly possible so I can buy another one.

“Fuck, that’s good,” I say around a mouthful. I’m too enamored by the combination of flavors and textures to give a shit that I’m talking with my mouth full. And thank god for that, because my impropriety earns me another one of Kira’s beautiful laughs. The kind where she laughs with her entire body. Mouth open, head thrown back, limbs shaking with the force of her happiness. It’s beautiful and warm, like the first rays of sunlight after a summer storm spreading a glow all around us. It’s melodic and infectious, and I’d bottle it if I could. I can’t take my eyes off her as she comes down from her high.

“You have a beautiful smile, Kira. I feel so lucky whenever you throw one of those smiles my way.”

“I know my smile is beautiful. It happens to be one of the things I love most about my appearance. But you realize I was laughing at you, not with you, right?”

“I’m aware, but beggars can’t be choosers, can they?”

She chuckles again, shaking her head and finishing the rest of her own food in one large bite.

This time, a spot of mustard settles on the corner of her mouth, and I’ve never been happier to see a bit of mess in my entire life. I lean in, brushing my thumbover the dribble, half expecting her to open wide and bite my finger right off. Instead, she shocks the hell out of me when she opens her mouth and sucks the tip of my thumb past her lips, her tongue swirling as she licks up the mustard.

“Fuck,” I whisper, a shiver racing down my spine from the unexpected intimacy. Her eyes shine like silver sparkles as she bats up at me from under long, dark eyelashes. My stomach bottoms out, every inch of my body telling me to lean in further and kiss her. Claim her. Make her mine the way I’ve longed for for months. I trace my thumb over her bottom lip, memorizing the way the soft flesh feels under my touch.

“I’m cold, we should get back,” she says, making no move to stand. Instead, she leans in closer. The scent of her—all lemon and sweetness—invades my senses, making my brain go fuzzy. Need coils in my gut, a thread wrapping around a spool, winding tighter with every turn.

Kira McKenna is temptation and sin. More dangerous than a knife to the throat and hotter than any blazing inferno.

But fuck, what I wouldn’t give for a chance to go down in her flames. Her eyes are dark, glassy, searching, and the sight is intoxicating.

“Kira, darling, you know better than to look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you know if you say the word, I’d lay back and let you devour me whole.”

Her breath hitches, the tiny sound humming through my body and filling me to the brim with need.

“Kira,” I say softly, stroking her chin with my fingers. She tilts her head, her lips angled and parted, her eyes blinking closed. I inch forward, a breath away from taking the kiss I’ve dreamt about for months…

“Kiki, is that you?” A voice cuts through the moment. Kira jumps back as though she’s been shocked, and I miss her warmth the moment it’s gone.

“And Warren, too. Look at this cozy little moment I’ve stumbled upon.”

I look up to find Jonathan Graham standing in front of us, a Burberry scarf tucked into his pretentious black peacoat and his arm around the shoulders of a young woman in a purple NYU beanie who doesn’t look a day older than nineteen. I might have thought she could be his daughter if it weren’t for the way she just slipped her hand into his back pocket.

I might be a hypocrite for passing judgement when I’ve been spending the last year lusting after a woman twenty years my junior, but fuck. This girl in Jonathan’s arm looks like just that–a girl. This guy gives me real snakelike vibes, and I can’t say I appreciate his presence.

“I’ve told you a thousand times, my name is Kira.”

“Oh, just as icy as ever, I see. What are you doing inNew York? Scoping out the talent scene? Looking to open a new studio?”

“None of your fucking business.”

I flinch, so used to that bite in Kira’s voice being directed at me.

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