Page 89 of Stolen Kiss

Obviously, Elodie didn’t get her fondness for waking up at the crack of dawn from her mother.

“I have a surprise for you,” I teased.

“A kiss?” she asked hopefully.

I laughed. So much for fearing I might scare her off if I moved too quickly. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one feeling the effect of us taking things slowly.

“No. I have coffee.”

She grumbled something that sounded almost like, “I’d prefer the kiss,” but that was probably my own desire getting to my head. Not enough blood to my brain. No, all of it had flowed south since the first moment I laid eyes on the little imp.

I adjusted myself a bit before moving my finger down to trace the outline of her lips.

I wouldn’t have noticed the way her breathing changed had I not been paying attention.

But I was paying attention.

There would never be a time when I wouldn’t pay attention to her.

She opened her eyes then, showing me those deep green eyes, making me lose focus.

“Emilia,” I whispered.

She shifted on the bed before opening her mouth. I fed her my thumb, and watched as her mouth wrapped around the digit, sucking slightly.

I groaned.

Fuck, this was hot.

Her breathing grew more labored, and her green eyes turned dark.

I moved in closer to her without realizing it, before quickly coming to my senses. I had decided after that night in my kitchen that I wasn’t going to fuck her. Not until she asked me. Not until she begged me.

It wasn’t to feed into my arrogance, but to ensure that it was something she really wanted—something she was ready for.

I pulled away and pretended I didn’t see the look of disappointment in her eyes.

She sat up on the bed, leaning her back against the headboard, and an awkward silence ensued.

“You said you brought me coffee?” she asked.

I shifted. “Yes.”

I handed her the cup of coffee lamely. It didn’t seem like such a great surprise now, though she did smile gratefully at me as she took it out of my hand.

“Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. She looked off to the side. I knew she could feel my eyes on her. It was in that knowing blush on her cheeks.

I stood by my earlier assessment.

She was cute.

“Why is it so quiet?” she asked.

“Elodie’s at daycare.”

“This early?’

I laughed. “Sweetheart, it’s almost eight.”

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