“Chill,” I said, opening my eyes. “I’m almost done.”
I sat forward and reached for the towel I had waiting on the chair. Standing, I wrapped it around me and squeezed the excess water from my hair. Minutes later, I was dressed and opening the door.
Thomas looked up from his spot at the table and smiled at me. My stomach did its funny dance it liked to do. I turned away from him. His amusement filtered in through our link as I went to the stove and checked on lunch.
Someone had started a soup. Vegetables, fowl, and pasta floated in the broth.
Hands settled on my shoulders as I gave it a stir. Thomas’ amusement faded and something that felt like hunger replaced it. I turned my head to look at him. His hands skimmed down my shoulders, feathered over my upper arms, then transferred to my sides. I was fully clothed. His hands didn’t stray from my sides. Yet, if felt completely indecent. His hunger wasn’t for food; it was for me.
My lips parted, and his gaze shifted down to them. I wanted to tell him to give me some space but I couldn’t speak. His hunger consumed me and became my hunger. I set the spoon aside and turned, slowly. His head lowered. My pulse leapt, and I licked my lips.
“How’s the soup?” Mary asked. Barely contained laughter laced her words. But hearing her voice was enough to break the spell. Thomas’ hunger turned to mild annoyance.
I exhaled slowly and ducked around Thomas. Heat marked my cheeks as I headed for the common room’s doors.
“Mary, finish your basket,” Thomas said from behind me.
His irritation filtered through the connection we had. I wasn’t sure if it was at Mary or me because I was trying to put some distance between us.
One of the men chuckled as I left the room. Seconds later, I heard the door behind me and knew Thomas was following me. I didn’t look back at him, and he didn’t try to catch me until I was in the upstairs hallway.
Thomas’ hand curled around my upper arm before I made it to my door. He didn’t try to pull me to a stop. He didn’t need to. His touch was enough. Had he not touched me, I would have stepped inside my room, closed the door on him, and hid away at least until my blush faded.
Instead, when he touched me, I pivoted and took us both by surprise. I reached up, grabbed his face, and pulled him down for a kiss.
For several moments, just our lips touched. Then, his hunger returned in force. His hands settled on my sides again. He steered me back against a wall. My hands slid up into his hair. I opened my mouth to him. He growled and kissed me hard.
My head spun. I wasn’t sure if it was the kiss or if maybe I wasn’t breathing.
His lips left mine and trailed along my jaw to my neck. It was then that I noticed he was moving me again. Step by step, we were shuffling closer to my room.
I panicked, fisted my hand in his hair, and yanked hard.
“Ow!” He took a step back and scowled at me while he rubbed his head.
“What do you think you are doing?”
“It’s called kissing,” he said, dryly.
“No, you were trying to back me into my room. Why?”
He stopped rubbing his head and stared at me a moment. I felt the rush of hunger once more. But now I knew what he meant to do with it, and it didn’t wash me away.
“No, Thomas. You promised. Nothing more than I’m ready to give.”
“But I thought that was a yes.”
“That was a kiss, remember?”
He looked mildly annoyed with me for a moment then sighed.
“I’m sorry, Charlene.”
He stepped close and slowly pulled me into a hug. I resisted at first until I felt his sincerity.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
He held me in the hall for a while then pulled away.
“I’ll save you some lunch. Mary will come up to sit with you.”
He was giving me space while still making sure I was protected. My heart softened a little.
“Thank you,” I said, then turned away and closed myself into my room.
A few minutes later, Mary came in. She had a partial mat, and extra leaves. She sat on the floor, spread out her work, and looked up at me.
“So what earned him the hair pull?” she asked. She didn’t sound amused, just concerned.
“He told you?”
She nodded and started weaving another leaf into place.
“When he asked if I would come up here. He said you were upset enough with him that you pulled his hair, but he couldn’t leave you alone, even if you were mad at him. So what did he do?”
I blushed but confessed everything.
“I kissed him. He assumed it was a sign for more and was trying to nudge me into the room.”