Page 37 of Monsters, Vows, and Growls
"It'll work. I want you to be comfortable and?—"
"Patrick," she interrupted me, gliding right in front of me, so close I could feel her peppermint breath. "Kiss me."
I hadn't seen that coming. At all. But I wasn't about to deny her anything, especially this kind of request.
"Are you sure?" I had to ask. Thorne kicked me; I ignored him.
"No, but I want to." She looked up at me with those deep blue eyes of hers, and I lost myself. Carefully, I put my arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Then I brought my face towards her, watching intently for any sign she might change her mind. But she didn't. Her eyes closed, and then my lips brushed hers. It was the softest, most barely there touch, but it still hit me like a shockwave, straight through my chest. Every cell inside me came alive. Her lips moved against mine, slow and tentative, as if she was savoring the moment as much as I.
I knew it in every nerve ending, every thrum of blood under my skin, every ache that had lived in my chest since the moment I let her go ten years ago. Kissing her wasn’t just familiar—it wasright. Her mouth was soft, a little hesitant at first, but then I felt her hands slide up my chest, curling into my shirt, and that hesitation melted like sugar on the tongue.
She wanted this.
God,I wanted this.
The kiss deepened, not rushed, but no longer unsure. I tilted my head, letting myself sink into it, intoher. My arm curled tighter around her waist, and she pressed into me, breath catching inthe back of her throat in that way it used to when she was trying not to moan. My entire body tightened. Thorne rumbled in my chest like a purr of approval.Mate. Finally. Let me in.
You’re in enough,I told him, but I didn’t push him back. For once, we were aligned.
I felt her nails dig lightly into my shoulders. I didn’t think she even realized she was doing it. She tasted like peppermint and wine and something warm—something that made me feel nineteen again and still scared shitless I’d mess this up. I pulled back slightly, breathing hard, leaving our foreheads touching. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed. Pink bloomed across her cheeks, down her neck.
“You okay?” I asked, brushing my knuckles against her jaw.
She nodded, then laughed—breathy and beautiful. “I think my brain rebooted somewhere in the middle of that.”
“Should I be worried it short-circuited?”
“Maybe.” She leaned in, head resting briefly against my chest. “Definitely. Yeah.”
I wrapped my arms around her. Just held her. Felt her heartbeat against mine. She didn’t pull away. After a long, quiet moment, she murmured, “I don’t know where this is going, Patrick.”
“I don’t either,” I admitted. “But I know where I want it to go.”
She didn’t reply, but I felt the way she exhaled against my collarbone—in a slow surrender.
“I’m still mad at you,” she whispered.
“I’m still sorry.”
She leaned back and looked up at me, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Good. Just so we’re clear.”
And then—God help me—she smiled. Neither guarded nor polite, just Ella. Real and present and warm.
“Let’s cook,” she said, slipping out of my arms and heading toward the kitchen. “I have a new recipe to test, and if you’re lucky, I won’t throw a spoon at you.”
Thorne rumbled with laughter.She kissed us. She forgave us. And now she’s feeding us. She’s ours.
Easy,I warned him, and followed after her with a stupid, lovestruck, idiotic grin on my face that made me shake my head at myself when I passed a mirror. Yeah, I had it bad.
The water was still warm,though the bubbles were starting to fade, leaving little clusters clinging to the sides of the clawfoot tub like memories that refused to rinse away. Which was very fitting. Because that kiss? It was stillvery muchclinging to my mind. I sank a little deeper, water sloshing against the porcelain as I let out a low groan and covered my face with one wet hand. Why the hell did I kiss him? Not just kissedhim. I initiated it.
It wasn’t a bad kiss. Obviously. It was, in fact, one of the best kisses I’d ever had—which was also part of the problem. It was soft. Careful. The kind of kiss that tiptoed up to the edge of something huge and dangerous and whisperedjump.
So yeah. Definitely not just somelet’s get this tension over withkiss.
I blew out a breath, my skin flushed from the heat of the water and… let’s be honest, the memory ofhisheat. The way he’d pulled me in like I was something precious. The way his lips had moved against mine—tentative at first, then hungry, like he’d been starving for the taste of me.
And me?
