Page 22 of The Claiming of the Shrew
Although she said it flippantly, there was a visible edge of hurt underneath the playfulness.
“It tells you that your mate is an idiot, mostly.”
“Why did you lie?” she asked.
Fawkes took a deep breath. She was still half-turned, looking at him.
“Because I was here for work, and I didn’t want to make it complicated. And I wasn’t thinking. And also I was being stupid. Let me make up for it.”
He stepped forward, closing the space between them. Leah’s lips parted slightly.
She had a stunning face. It wasn’t soft; it was all angles and clean lines, a narrow face filled with personality and dynamic energy. Her wide hazel eyes, fringed in soft brown lashes, reflected the green and gold of the sun-drenched forest around them. There was a light dusting of freckles across her high cheekbones. Her hair was straight and brown and unadorned, swept out of the way with a clip but otherwise unstyled, falling to her shoulders. It looked so soft he ached to run his hands through it.
And when he placed a hand lightly on the side of her head, stroking his fingers gently through the fine strands, it was softer than he had imagined possible.
He drew her in and kissed her.
Leah’s mouth opened under his. There was a tentative moment of tasting each other, and then she suddenly, fiercely, almost furiously kissed him back. She threw her arm around his back, and he was vaguely aware of a crutch banging his leg, but he barely registered it because he was kissing her, kissing hismate, kissing her and never wanting to stop. Her mouth was hot and responsive, and time simply fell away.
They broke the kiss only because they both needed to breathe. Fawkes held her, gazing down into her eyes, feeling her chest rise and fall tantalizingly against him.
“You could have done that at the very beginning,” she said. “You absolute walnut. You acorn. You utterfilbert.”
Fawkes laughed, half drunk on the feeling of her body against him, warm and wriggly in his arms; the scent of her, the taste of her. “I hope I’m a reasonably good-looking filbert, at least.”
“You are the hottest hazelnut in this forest.” She took his face in her hands, the crutches now lying at their feet, and kissed him again.
A more picturesque setting for a first kiss could hardly be imagined. Wildflowers surrounded them, a blue and white sea of stars. The sun was warm on the back of his head. They kissed and kissed, and gradually he became aware he was supporting more and more of her weight.
“I’m gonna have to sit down,” Leah said. She looked up at him hopefully. “Or you could carry me.”
“Like this?” He grasped her firm, round ass and pulled her against him, hoisted her up, and now her arms were around his neck and he was holding her body clasped tightly to him.
His cock had definite things to say about this new state of affairs.
“This is nice,” Leah murmured. The lift brought her to eye level with him, so he no longer needed to bend down. “I can work with this.”
They kissed, nibbled at each other’s faces and necks and ears. Leah played with Fawkes’s hair, making him want a hand free to do the same.
“I could lay you down in the wildflowers right here.”
Leah toyed with his hair coquettishly. “That sounds nice. And scenic. But also cold and damp. What if we just keep doing this for a while?”
Fawkes kissed her again, wishing fervently that he’d thought to bring a blanket. And a bottle of champagne. And a condom.
“You probably need to put me down soon,” Leah said wistfully.
“In a minute.”
They went on kissing, and kept at it until Fawkes almost lost his grip on her and stumbled sideways into a tree, recovering his equilibrium by slamming his shoulder into it. Leah squeaked and tightened her grip around his neck until she was nearly choking him.
“Maybenowput me down,” she gasped in his ear.
“Sorry, I got distracted.” He set her carefully on her feet. “Crutches?”
“Yes, please.”
He picked up the crutches and handed them to her. “Out of curiosity, and I’m asking this mostly just to know how I can help out?—”
