“I got close to jumping in,” he jests in a velvet tone that has me inhaling an extra breath.
“Yeah, well, I guess thank you for not throwing me over. You’re a pretty decent guy, Easton Crowne.”
Gripping my hand, he surrounds it with his own and pulls me to his side, “Come on, let’s walk some more until you get tired.”
“I’m sorry, Easton,” I repeat because it bears repeating.
As we walk away from the pier, he laces our fingers together in response. Relief trickles in as I glance over at him just as we pass the dock light, and I see no trace of judgment but an accepting warmth in his eyes. It’s then I feel the totality of the warm embrace Stella described when she first arrived in Seattle. That and the knowledge I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be and with the right person—even if I don’t understand or have the crystal clarity of why. He pulls me into his side as we stroll along the edge of the water, my head resting on his chest before we get lost in our footfalls.
Easton stops short of the sliding doors outside of the hotel and wordlessly lifts our clutched hands before pressing his lush lips to the back of mine. Heat sparks through me as the buzz between us amps up, crackling and intensifying with every passing second.
“So, you don’t hate me?”
“No,” he answers, quickly crowding me on the sidewalk. His potent, desire-filled gaze destroying my will to keep him at arm’s length by the second.
“Not even a little?”
“No, but do you want a little more clarity?”
“Think I can handle it?”
His lips lift in a barely-there grin. “You’re a little more villain than you think.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I have to agree with that.”
“We all have one in us,” he imparts.
“You’re completely different than I thought you would be,” I admit, “but in the best way.” My limbs thrum with recognition that the gorgeous distraction towering over me is taking up every inch of my headspace.
“Easton, maybe I’ve been presumptuous in thinking…but if I wasn’t,” I whisper as his body cradles mine without contact, the invisible thread between us strengthening, “if I wasn’t—”
Using our clasped hands, he jerks me flush to him, his breath hitting my ear a second before his heated declaration. “If you weren’t so determined to keep me out of your bed, I’d be fucking the breath out of you right now, Natalie.”
I let out a shaky exhale as his erection brushes against me. “In my mind, I’ve already sunk inside you a thousand times.”
A whimper leaves my throat as he pulls back, undeniable heat burning in his darkening emerald gaze.
“This is crazy,” I swallow.
“No, it’s not,” he says, brushing his thumb seductively over the back of my hand. Allowing it briefly, I lose myself in the sweep of his touch as I imagine the type of lover he would be. He seems to read my thoughts easily, as he has since the day we met, all the while naturally disarming me.
Exhaling heavily, he pulls back slightly, reaching into his jean pocket where he retrieves a pack of breath mints. His dark lashes flit over his cheeks as he unwraps the candy. Lifting a piece of it, he gently pushes it between my parted lips. Embarrassment threatening, I draw my brows just as he pops a piece into his own mouth before flicking the mint skillfully along his tongue. “I’m so tempted to ignore your words and listen to everything else you’re not saying.”
“Please don’t,” I whisper, knowing if he moves in, I won’t stop him. It’s when he inches closer that I realize I’m fisting his jersey for support.
He cups my face, running his thumb along my creased brow before lowering it to slide it across my bottom lip. “At least now I don’t have to wonder what your mouth tastes like.”
My entire body trembles with need as his earthy scent engulfs me while he presses a slow kiss to my temple. “Sleep in. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at three.” Releasing me, he turns just as abruptly and stalks toward the parking lot as if forcing himself to walk away.
Damn I wish I was your Lover
Sophie B Hawkins
Natalie
Exiting the hotel, I catch sight of Easton leaning next to the passenger door of his truck. As I draw near, I’m struck stupid by the sight of him—dark brown leather boots crossed at his ankles, whitewashed fitted jeans, and a form-fitting, buttoned flannel accentuating his lean, muscular build. His thick, chin-length raven locks are partially tucked behind one ear. The rest cradles his jawline pulling attention to his naturally stained, crimson lips.
Dear God, please make it stop.
His current look battering my libido, I can’t help but be happy about the extra effort I put into my own appearance today. After waking refreshed from a coma-worthy twelve hours of sleep, I ate a breakfast fit for a queen. Finding myself with a few hours to spare, I ordered a car and took a little trip to Pike Place Market. I explored the tourist destination before dipping into a boutique and treating myself to a sexy, low-cut halter sweater that accentuates my cleavage and bares a few inches of my midriff. I’ve paired it with skintight dark pleather pants and black suede ankle boots. After a long, steamy, life-altering shower, I left my hair curly, despite my temptation to straighten it, and managed to tame it in large ringlets. Keeping my makeup clean—knowing my expensive gloss was en route to a nearby dump—I settled on a matte nude. It’s not at all lost on me that every effort I made on my look coincides with his preferences. The appreciation for said effort shines clear in his eyes as I stalk toward him. At the last minute, I slipped on his oversized jacket, and that finishing touch is where his gaze lingers longest.
Hastening toward him, I can’t help the gradual lift of my lips with every step as his eyes again sweep me, holding on the bare skin of my stomach before trailing back up.
“Hi,” I beam at him as he opens the passenger door for me.
“You slept,” is his reply as I slip into the truck, inhaling his heavenly sage and woods scent.
“Like a rock, finally, and I feel amazing,” I glance over at him as I settle in.
“It shows,” he replies low, closing me into the cab. My eyes follow him in the sideview, his natural swagger in full effect as he rounds his truck bed. As he eases into his seat, nervous energy engulfs me. Though it can’t be, this feels everything like a date.
Easton unlocks and hands me his cellphone to play DJ, in time with the routine we’ve established in just a few days of knowing each other. Though I’m still a bit surprised he picked me up today as promised, considering he’s had time to absorb the full extent of my deception.
“So, you still don’t hate me?” I ask, taking his extended phone.
“No,” he starts his truck, “I think you’re punishing yourself enough.” He glances over at me, a smile flirting along his lips. “But since we both know you’re currently a danger to yourself and others if you’re alone with your thoughts, you’re going to run an errand with me today.”
“That’s a dramatic assessment.”
He raises his brows.
“Okay, so there may be a small amount of truth to that.” I laugh lightly, and he gives me another whisper of a smile as he puts the truck into gear. Aside from humiliating myself unintentionally, and publicly for his amusement, I wonder what it takes to get Easton Crowne fully animated.
“What errands are we talking about? We know you’re all stocked up on condoms,” I jab, flicking his playlist exaggeratedly with my pointer as the tracks tick down the screen by the dozen before pressing play on a random song. It’s when I roll my window down halfway that I feel him pause on the other side of the truck and glance over. “What?”