Page 63 of Yearning For Her

“Not the same thing.” After shifting a couple flower-filled vases around, she set her glass atop a coaster on the end table, lifted her blanket, and sat on the couch with her legs curled to the side. She usually had to fight her cats for a spot, but they were likely hiding after the delivery had caused such a commotion.

Picking up the remote, she turned on the television.

Kian removed his coat, draped it on the arm of the recliner chair, and kicked off his boots. As he approached the couch, he unbuttoned the sleeves of his dress shirt and rolled them up. The first change happened subtly, but Willow’s heart quickened when she noticed it—his skin was paling to that soft, ashy gray.

Her eyes jumped to his face. She watched as his features sharpened, his ears lengthened to points, and horns sprouted from his temples. His irises lit up, the blue light spreading to cover the whites of his eyes and cast a gentle glow on his cheeks. When he grinned down at her, his canines were even longer.

Willow swallowed and forced her attention to the television. He sat beside her, reclining with an ease that might’ve suggested he’d already worn his own butt-groove into the couch.

Trying to ignore him, Willow scrolled through lists of movies on various streaming services, seeking something that sounded interesting. What kind of movies did Kian enjoy? Did he even watch movies at all?

One of his hands slipped beneath the blanket and cupped her calf. She blinked as he drew her leg across his lap, peeled off her sock, and began massaging her foot.

“Remember, you agreed to behave,” she said.

“You’ve had a long day, Violet,” he said with a saccharine smile. “Just helping you unwind.”

Willow narrowed her eyes, though she couldn’t prevent the smile tugging at her own lips. She quickly turned back to the screen so her hair would hide her expression.

His hands did feel good. Like, really, really good. He knew exactly where every bit of tension hid, no matter how deep, and always used exactly the right amount of pressure to massage it away.

She clamped her lips together before she could release a contented sigh.

You need to do something here, Willow. Spoil the mood.

The next movie on the list popped up, and her smile widened. A gory horror movie.

Perfect.

She made the selection, set the remote down, and picked up her wine.

The rating screen appeared, listing the reasons the movie was R-rated. Blood, strong violence and gore, language, sexual content.

Wait, sexual content? Crap.

“Hmm. Are these the sorts of films you usually watch?” Kian asked, hands continuing their work.

“Yep,” she said, adding a pop to the p.

Kian chuckled. “Intriguing.” He ran the tip of a nail down her sole, making her squeak and jerk her foot away. “I can’t wait to explore your dark side, Willow.”

She scrunched her nose at him. “Soooo, you want me to go on a killing spree and chop people up with an axe?”

Taking hold of her foot again, he guided it back onto his thighs. “You know that’s not what I mean. Everyone has those secret desires they keep buried deep. Those wants they are too ashamed or afraid to admit. On some level, everyone wants a little…wickedness from time to time.”

“Mmhmm. Now, shh, moving is starting.” She took another sip of wine.

He laughed again and resumed the massage, though she swore there was something different in the way his fingers moved now. Something more…suggestive, more sensual. Something that sparked a quiver of anticipation in her belly.

The movie played, and Willow tried hard to focus on it, to keep her eyes on the screen and not on the man beside her. But that proved difficult as he removed her other sock and continued to rub her feet, his hands occasionally traveling up to her calves. It didn’t help that the alcohol was taking effect, warming her from within, making her body grow lax. Her skin tingled, and there was an insistent pulse in her core.

Willow set her glass on the coaster, sighed, and wiggled down until she was lying on her side.

“Comfortable?” Kian asked.

“Mmhmm…”

The couch creaked as Kian shifted. Willow wasn’t immediately aware of what he was doing, but it became apparent when he braced a hand on the cushion behind her and lowered himself onto his side, gently wedging his body between hers and the backrest. One of his arms slipped under her head, offering support, while he hooked the other around her middle. A firm tug nestled her back against his front.

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