Page 50 of Beneath the Starlight and Storms

“That’s not what—” He glances down at my breakfast with a frown. “How did you…?” He steals my fork and spears a piece of egg before eating it, his brows raising in surprise when he does.

“Not bad. But you could have got one of the staff to make you something.” He hands me back my fork before stepping back and leaning against the counter.

“I wanted to make it myself.” I eat some of my eggs, surprised at how good they taste and remember to make them in the coffee pot from now on.

“I forgot how you always had a natural talent to make something from anything.” There’s a shadow of a smile on his lips and a whimsical look in his eyes.

“Just because something has a purpose doesn’t mean it can’t be used in other ways too,” I remind him.

In Neverland, I had to learn how to quickly adapt if I wanted to survive. But even before that, I’ve always had to make do with what I had.

I turn to pour my second cup of instant coffee but feel his eyes on me the entire time.

“Do you want one?” The cup nearly makes it to my lips just before he reaches out and diverts it to his. His eyes never leave mine as he takes a sip.

“I meant your own.” I narrow my eyes at him as amusement flashes across his.

Releasing my hand, he licks his bottom lip as his eyes continue to watch me intently. “It tastes much better this way.” His voice grows husky, sending a tingle of warmth down my back.

“What way? When it’s stolen?”

He gives me a sinful smile. “Some things just taste better when they’re stolen.”

From the heated, dark look in his eyes, I knew we were no longer talking about my drink.

I clear my throat. “Well, keep your thievery to thingsotherthan my coffee.”

He moves forward until he’s right in front of me. “And what if I wanted to steal something else?”

“Like what?” I ask as his eyes blaze down at me, holding me captive.

He slowly leans in, his eyes moving from my eyes to my mouth, before he dips down and places the softest brush of a kiss against my lips.

“A kiss,” he breathes, before stepping back.

For a few seconds I can’t speak, completely stunned silent at what he did.

“I’ll stay away from your coffee. But I can’t promise I’ll stay away from anything else.”

But as soon as he finishes speaking, my mind catches up and my first thought is to kick him or teach him a lesson for being so cocky and bold to play this kind of game.

Violence wins out and I choose to go with the former option, placing my coffee down before moving to kick him. But his hand snaps out and he easily catches my leg.

A wicked smirk grows on his lips and he pushes me against the counter before leaning his hard body into me.

“If you wanted another kiss, all you had to do was ask,” he murmurs, his eyes smoldering. “No need to attack me. Though I do enjoy whatever form of foreplay you’re into.” He gives me a wolfish smile.

But instead of falling for another one of his tricks, I decide to beat him at his own game and turn the tables on him, teaching him a lesson.

Faking a shy smile, I reach up and pull him closer to me. His eyes widen as I quickly lean forward and place my lips to his, teasing him with soft brushes of my lips.

It takes him less than a second to snap out of his shock before he grips me tighter and releases a throaty groan.

I melt into him, forgetting for a moment why I started this little game as I become addicted to the taste of him.

Heat pools low in my belly as his tongue parts my lips and he takes control of the kiss. Our movements grow more urgent as a haze of pleasure settles over me. I get lost in each caress, each brush of his lips and talented tongue.

He wanted me. I could feel it. Wanted more than just a game.

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