Page 46 of Fated to Monsters

I do as he says, the muffin falling from my mouth and into his. Heat swells between my legs.

How is it possible to be turned on by such an act?

Bo’s eyes widen. “Damn birdie.” He keeps his one hand around my waist and says, “More.”

I break off a chunk and plop it into his mouth; my fingers grazing his lips only heightens my desire for him. I continue until there’s nothing left for me to give him.

“Tasted better straight from your mouth.” He relaxes into the chair but doesn’t take his hand off me.

And because I can’t miss the open opportunity, I plop myself onto his lap. “Was that so hard?”

“You keep pressing your ass up against me and I’ll show you what’s hard.”

I wiggle on him and laugh. “You wouldn’t.”

He pokes me in the side. “Keep messing around, Birdie. You’re going to be sorry.”

Why can’t he be like this all the time? Fun, playful, cocky. This side of him is temporary and fleeting and makes me wonder which version of him is actually real.

Bo slides my legs sideways over his and keeps his arm draped over them while his other remains wrapped around my torso. He leans back and stares over at me, his resolve softening. “You really brought that up here for me?”

“What?” I settle into him and rest my head on the high back of the chair.

“The muffin. You got that for me?”

But there’s something about the way he saysmethat tugs at my heart.

“Of course, I did.” This time it’s my finger that jabs him in the ribs. “I believe my exact thought wasDamn this is delicious. I have to get one for Bo.”

“Really? You thought about me?”

“Are you serious?” I melt into him a bit more. “Aside from wondering what the fuck we’re doing here, you’re on my mind a lot, you big idiot.”

“Why?” His dark gaze steadies itself on mine.

I swallow down the intensity of his stare. “Because…I…care…about…you.”

“Why?”

“Did you hit your head or something?” I pinch my brows together. “I know the concept is foreign to you, the wholecaringthing, but it’s not just me. Wes and Dash and Jade care about you, too.”

“Oh,” he says.

“And do you care about them?”

Bo blinks, his attention faltering as if I asked him to solve the hardest riddle. “I mean, I don’t want them to die.”

“That’s not the same, Bo, and you know it.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” His palm tenses on my thigh.

“Do you care about me?” I shouldn’t ask, but I do anyway.

“It’s complicated, Birdie.”

“You’ve said that before. It’s a simple yes or no.”

“It’s not simple, Wren, and you know it.”

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