Page 36 of Yearning For Her

“I… What? I didn’t invite you. You let yourself in.”

Loki was the first to settle, sitting down in place. Remy and Bebe followed suit. All three continued watching Kian, their tails moving with restless little flicks, but they seemed more wary now than agitated.

Kian picked up the paper bag, rose, and turned to face Willow. His heated gaze settled upon her. She felt it as though it were a physical touch.

“Gods, you are beautiful,” he said, devouring her with those eyes.

No one had ever looked at her as intensely as Kian did. At times, it was disconcerting, because she didn’t know how to react to such attention. But she couldn’t deny how desirable, how beautiful, he made her feel. She couldn’t deny the spark igniting in her core.

Despite her uncertainties, she couldn’t deny she really, really liked when he looked at her that way.

“And I suppose you didn’t invite me in,” he continued, “but I’m here now. Peace has been made, and I can present my offering.”

“Your offering?”

He held up the bag. “I brought you breakfast.”

“You did?” Willow took the paper bag. It was warm, and as she opened it, the aroma of fresh coffee wafted up to her. She laughed when she peered inside to find a blueberry muffin sitting atop a lidded paper cup.

He arched a brow. “Is something about your breakfast amusing, Willow?”

Smiling, she looked up at him. “No. It’s just that, after what you revealed, it’s so hard to imagine you standing in line at a coffee shop and ordering food like a normal person.”

“Ah. If it helps, know that waiting in line is always optional for me.” He turned away from her and moved deeper into her home, studying his surroundings. “I’ve never had an issue obtaining what I want exactly when I want it.” He glanced back at her over his shoulder, and his eyes were glowing. “At least until recently.”

Willow dropped her attention to the bag, seeking refuge from the fire in his gaze. Maybe he did have some supernatural effect on her?

“Well, we can’t always get what we want.” She removed the muffin, taking a nibble from its side as she walked into the kitchen.

Kian’s arm hooked around her waist, and her eyes widened as he spun her around to face him. Cupping the back of her head with his other hand, he dipped Willow back and leaned over her, his face drawing close to hers, his lips a hair’s breadth away from her mouth. His dark, seductive scent washed over her. There was no ignoring it; she wanted only to breathe it in deeper.

“Oh, but I will, Violet,” he whispered, “and so can you. Just say the word and I shall make it so.”

A thrilling tingle spread through her, making her core clench. His face was so close. The slightest upward tilt of her chin would’ve been enough to bring their lips together. Then she’d taste him again, then she could lose herself in him…

Think with your head, Willow, not your suddenly overactive libido.

Clutching the bag to her chest, Willow lifted the muffin up between their faces. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Kian laughed and straightened, drawing Willow upright. When he stepped back and released her, she didn’t know whether to be grateful or upset. Either way, she released a heavy, relieved exhalation.

She knew there was no hiding her emotions from him, knew he could sense her desire. But did he know how wet she was? Did he know that her nipples had hardened to aching points? That his voice made her skin tingle? Or that she wished he hadn’t stopped, wished he had swatted the muffin aside, pressed that sensual mouth to hers, ripped off her clothes, and made love to her right then and there?

If he knew, he said nothing, and instead stepped around Willow to precede her into the kitchen, where he resumed his casual perusal of her home.

She set her muffin on the table and removed the coffee from its holder in the bag, removing the little sticker from the opening on the lid. “Did you already eat?”

He cast her a knowing glance as he opened one of the distressed, seafoam green cabinets. “I’ll have my breakfast after you finish yours.”

“Oh.” She wrapped her hands around the coffee and lifted it, only to pause when heat that had nothing to do with the warm cup between her palms suffused her. “Ohhhh.”

She quickly took a drink to distract herself from her thoughts, neglecting to check the coffee’s temperature in her rush. Willow hummed. Thankfully, it wasn’t hot enough to burn her. It was actually…perfect. Creamy and sweet, exactly how she liked it.

Kian cocked his head at the eclectic collection of plates and bowls stacked within the cabinet. “Hmm…”

He opened another cabinet to reveal a similarly mismatched gathering of cups and mugs. No two pieces were from the same set, nor were any quite the same size or color.

How many times had Eli said her things looked cheap and tasteless? How many times had Eli asked why she insisted on buying other people’s trash? There’d always been just enough lightness in his voice for her to brush the comments aside as jokes, but after hearing the same things so many times, she should’ve known. She should’ve listened to her gut, should’ve realized that he hadn’t really been joking with her. He’d been judging her.

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