Clipped Wings (Clipped Wings, #1)

“What are you doing?” I was feeding a kitten icing; it didn’t paint much of a picture of masculinity.

“You look cute.”

“?‘Cute’?” I was appalled. No one had ever described me as cute, except maybe when I was a baby, and I doubted even then.

“Yes. Cute. Adorable, even.”

“I think you should rescind that last comment.”

“Why? Are you going to refuse to do my tattoo if I don’t?” She cradled her phone protectively to her chest, peeking down to check out the picture.

“I might.”

“Maybe I should send Lisa a copy, see what her take is on it.” She started pressing buttons.

If Chris got hold of it, he would have a field day. He’d probably make a fucking poster and hang it in the shop window. I would never hear the end of it. “You wouldn’t.”

“I might.”

I dropped the kitten on the counter and crowded her. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Tenley backed up and hit the lower cabinets, her cocky grin fading. I was sure I looked seriously pissed. She tried to scoot to the side, but I mirrored the movement, blocking her in. The kitten scampered over to the empty coffee cup beside the sink.

Tenley glanced at her from the corner of her eye before refocusing on me. The trepidation that usually accompanied such close contact became evident in her rigid stance. I was about to back off when her entire demeanor changed. It was like a switch being flipped. Her eyes closed briefly, and when they opened again the unease was gone, replaced with a desperation I didn’t know what to make of, but wanted to do something about.

“You don’t intimidate me,” she said softly.

That was a lie, but I went with it. “I’m not trying to. I’m merely suggesting you rethink sharing that picture.”

“Or what?”

“Is it worth pushing me to find out?”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” she challenged.

I couldn’t and wouldn’t back down now. I pried the phone out of her hand and slid it across the counter, out of reach. “Is that right?”

I knew exactly where I wanted to take this. I shouldn’t have come inside. I should have handed over the kitten at the door, waited in the hall for the cupcakes, and gone home. Then I could have fixed my own damn problem and gone to bed. But I hadn’t. Instead, I was standing in Tenley’s kitchen with her sandwiched between me and the counter, spinning intricate fantasies about how I would like to proceed with the rest of the night. Fuck The Rule. Fuck everything.

Tenley tilted her head a fraction, exposing the satin expanse of her throat. It was an invitation; I couldn’t ignore it. Leaning in, I ran my nose up the column of her neck, my mouth following close behind. She was warm beneath my lips. I parted them to taste her, then bit down gently, teeth scraping across her skin.

“See, I bite,” I whispered in her ear, taking the lobe between my teeth.

She sighed, the sound a mix of relief and acute need. I was just going to kiss her. That was it. At least that was what I told myself as I nipped my way across her jaw to her mouth. Cradling her cheek in my palm, I angled her head to the side. Nothing in her posture warned me against what I was about to do.

“Am I cute now?”

She shook her head.

“Adorable, even?” I brushed my lips over hers and they parted, another invitation. “Pardon, I didn’t catch that?” I pulled her top lip between mine, swept my tongue along her skin, and waited.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Her hands glided along the sides of my neck and into my hair. She pulled me closer and strained upward. I started off slow and searching, because I needed to keep myself in check now more than ever. Her mouth was sweet, and her velvet tongue came out to touch mine, tasting, testing, tentative . . . meeting the silver ball and exploring the feel and texture as I did the same.

Despite my desire to savor the experience, Tenley’s fingers tightened painfully in my hair. Her nails scratched my scalp as she tried to get closer. Relinquishing my already limited restraint, I snaked an arm around her waist and deepened the kiss.

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