Page 36 of Inked Beasts

Thorn’s personality and sense of humor come through in little details I find as I look around. Framed posters, whimsical artwork, little items on shelves that appear to have been collected while traveling.

“Are you hungry? I know my schedule is irregular, but I’m going to make dinner,” he announces after tossing his jacket onto a chair.

“I could eat.” The fresh air must have roused my appetite. “Anytime your food is on offer, I’m going to be hungry,” I add, earning another of his gorgeous grins.

“Can I help?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wonder if he’ll be offended. Offering to help him prepare a meal is like offering to help Michelangelo paint a ceiling. But this is Thorn, and I should have known there wouldn’t be an ego trip.

“If you’d like.” His warm expression makes me eager to follow him into the kitchen.

He sets me up with salad ingredients, a knife, and a cutting board, while he puts on water to boil fresh ravioli he has on hand. I’m focused on the job of slicing a cucumber, until the smell of something else he’s working on at the stove draws my attention.

Once I glance up from my work, I’m immediately distracted by his back. He’s so tall and strong, and the way the thin cotton of his shirt hugs his broad shoulders as he stirs a sauce has me momentarily mesmerized.

“What are you making?” I ask, my mouth watering for more than one reason.

“Sage and browned butter sauce with toasted walnuts.”

“It smells amazing.”

He tosses a smile over his shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and it’s with a fair bit of willpower that I manage to stay at my station rather than go over and wrap my arms around him as if we were still on his bike.

The food turns out to be delicious, of course, and between bites, he and I talk and laugh, reminiscing about the past and catching up on each other’s lives. We have more wine, too, and I can’t help but think how different my life is here compared to how it was with Scott. Staying up late, having a second dinner, the motorcycle ride and moonlight picnic—it’s all so refreshing. I feel so free.

I insist on helping him clean up, and when the last dish has been washed and is in the rack, he and I are standing next to the sink, mere inches apart.

“Want me to take you back to your place?” The quieter tone of his voice makes the implications clear.

I shake my head no, taking a step closer to him.

LEXY

The invisible pull is strong, but I keep my hands to myself as I look up at him, waiting, because his eyes seem to hold other unspoken questions.

I know he wants to be with me, but something is holding him back.

“I should probably tell you … I’ve been seeing your brother and Gage,” I say.

He gives a small nod, not surprised, but still watchful.

“It’s an … open-ended situation.”

Another nod, and then his hand comes up to lightly stroke my arm, sending a warm pulse of energy to my core.

His expression poses another silent inquiry, which I answer by holding his gaze and closing the distance between us another inch.

The tips of his fingers trail up my arm, his gaze intense. I wonder what he’s thinking as his thumb traces over my lips, his eyes never leaving mine.

I’m not breathing when he finally bends to kiss me.

It’s just a dizzying brush of his lips at first, then his hand cups my face, and his mouth meets mine with more intention.

He pulls back, looking into my eyes again, as if he’s waiting for me to protest, or maybe, like me, he can’t quite believe this is real.

It’s stunning to realize that this remarkable man is the young boy I used to know. But it’s true, and it makes this moment even more meaningful.

His fingers tip my chin upward, his mouth covers mine, and then there’s no holding back. His kiss holds more than passion; there’s an eager curiosity, and the promise of what’s to come.

He turns me slightly, his body pinning mine to the counter. The desire that I was feeling in his kiss is verified as his cock hardens and presses against me.

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