Too Good for Words
“I really want to kiss you again.” Cash's hoarse voice ruffled her skin like sandpaper. “But that's not part of our agreement.”
The desire stoked by the long ride pressed up against him and the vulnerability he'd expressed earlier flared, dazzling her. Penta licked her lower lip, accidentally brushing his thumb. His pupils, already dilated in the dim light, expanded further and he growled.
He growled.
Penta Unleashed, she reminded herself. She licked her lip again, this time deliberately swiping her tongue against his finger. “I'm willing to amend the agreement if you are.”
Cash's stormy gaze welded itself to Penta's, his light clasp on her chin tightening. She held herself still, waiting like a mouse in a trap. A willing mouse in a pain free trap, but caught all the same.
“Amend it how?” The words ground out from between his tightly pressed lips.
“We never discussed”—she swallowed, hard, and then made herself continue—”t-touching. And k-kissing.” Damn it. She hadn't meant to stutter. But locked in the intensity in his expression, she was surprised she could form complete sentences at all.
“This isn't real. Touching you like this”—his fingers left her chin to trace the column of her throat in a fiery line—”shouldn't be allowed.”
She knew whatever was between them wasn't real. Being caressed by the tattooed hand of a hard but handsome man after sneaking into a youth camp and breaking all sorts of speed limits on a motorbike wasn't real, not in Penta's world. But she couldn't squash the wish that it was. That adventures with this man could be her reality.
“I was under the impression that people did this all the time.” With great care and even greater bravery, she laid her palm flat on his chest. The metal zipper of his jacket was cool and sharp, the leather warm and supple. “Be ph-physical without making a big deal about it.” Damn it. Cash would never take her seriously if she kept stuttering.
His next words proved her right. “People certainly do. I'm not sure you do.” Amusement brightened his smoky eyes.
“You're laughing at me again.” She gave his chest a shove. His feet didn't move, though he swayed backward a millimetre. “I hate when you do that.”
“You look like a kitten trying to roar like a tiger.”
If she thought he meant sex kitten she might take his words as a compliment. Instead, he made her feel like a lazy, grumpy house cat.
Her cheeks hot with humiliation, she stamped a foot in high dudgeon and attempted to spin on her heels. Before she could do more than twist her shoulders, his hands clamped onto her hips and held her in place.
“Damn it, Penta. Can't a guy smile without you taking it the wrong way?”
Her flush deepened and sweat gathered under her arms. “Sorry.” She stared fixedly at the pull tab on the zipper of his jacket, leaning back and taking shallow breaths so her breasts didn't brush against his chest.
He sighed, his hands kneading her flesh. “Don't be sorry. I'm not good at this relationship thing. I like you. I like that you ask for what you want even when it scares you.”
She peeked up, wary. He sounded sincere, but… “You do?”
“I do.” His growl had softened to a purr. A dangerous purr, but one that promised dark delights. “Do you want me to kiss you, Penta?”
She considered his question carefully, trembling with awareness as his thumbs traced circles on her waist, his fingertips pressing the tops of her buttocks. “No.”
His gentle caresses stopped immediately. In the space of a breath, he created an arm's length gap between them. “I see.”
“No,” she repeated. “I don't think you do.”
She stepped forward. He stepped back. She followed him, stride for stride, until he was pressed up against another workbench.
Penta Unleashed. “I don't want you to kiss me, Cash. I want to kiss you.”
His mouth, encircled by his luxuriant beard, opened and closed. Satisfaction rolled through her at reducing him to speechlessness.
The seconds ticked by and she clung tightly to her courage. “Well?” she prodded.
He finally found his words, his voice husky and raw. “Go right ahead.”
“I really want to kiss you again.” Cash's hoarse voice ruffled her skin like sandpaper. “But that's not part of our agreement.”
The desire stoked by the long ride pressed up against him and the vulnerability he'd expressed earlier flared, dazzling her. Penta licked her lower lip, accidentally brushing his thumb. His pupils, already dilated in the dim light, expanded further and he growled.
He growled.
Penta Unleashed, she reminded herself. She licked her lip again, this time deliberately swiping her tongue against his finger. “I'm willing to amend the agreement if you are.”
Cash's stormy gaze welded itself to Penta's, his light clasp on her chin tightening. She held herself still, waiting like a mouse in a trap. A willing mouse in a pain free trap, but caught all the same.
“Amend it how?” The words ground out from between his tightly pressed lips.
“We never discussed”—she swallowed, hard, and then made herself continue—”t-touching. And k-kissing.” Damn it. She hadn't meant to stutter. But locked in the intensity in his expression, she was surprised she could form complete sentences at all.
“This isn't real. Touching you like this”—his fingers left her chin to trace the column of her throat in a fiery line—”shouldn't be allowed.”
She knew whatever was between them wasn't real. Being caressed by the tattooed hand of a hard but handsome man after sneaking into a youth camp and breaking all sorts of speed limits on a motorbike wasn't real, not in Penta's world. But she couldn't squash the wish that it was. That adventures with this man could be her reality.
“I was under the impression that people did this all the time.” With great care and even greater bravery, she laid her palm flat on his chest. The metal zipper of his jacket was cool and sharp, the leather warm and supple. “Be ph-physical without making a big deal about it.” Damn it. Cash would never take her seriously if she kept stuttering.
His next words proved her right. “People certainly do. I'm not sure you do.” Amusement brightened his smoky eyes.
“You're laughing at me again.” She gave his chest a shove. His feet didn't move, though he swayed backward a millimetre. “I hate when you do that.”
“You look like a kitten trying to roar like a tiger.”
If she thought he meant sex kitten she might take his words as a compliment. Instead, he made her feel like a lazy, grumpy house cat.
Her cheeks hot with humiliation, she stamped a foot in high dudgeon and attempted to spin on her heels. Before she could do more than twist her shoulders, his hands clamped onto her hips and held her in place.
“Damn it, Penta. Can't a guy smile without you taking it the wrong way?”
Her flush deepened and sweat gathered under her arms. “Sorry.” She stared fixedly at the pull tab on the zipper of his jacket, leaning back and taking shallow breaths so her breasts didn't brush against his chest.
He sighed, his hands kneading her flesh. “Don't be sorry. I'm not good at this relationship thing. I like you. I like that you ask for what you want even when it scares you.”
She peeked up, wary. He sounded sincere, but… “You do?”
“I do.” His growl had softened to a purr. A dangerous purr, but one that promised dark delights. “Do you want me to kiss you, Penta?”
She considered his question carefully, trembling with awareness as his thumbs traced circles on her waist, his fingertips pressing the tops of her buttocks. “No.”
His gentle caresses stopped immediately. In the space of a breath, he created an arm's length gap between them. “I see.”
“No,” she repeated. “I don't think you do.”
She stepped forward. He stepped back. She followed him, stride for stride, until he was pressed up against another workbench.
Penta Unleashed. “I don't want you to kiss me, Cash. I want to kiss you.”
His mouth, encircled by his luxuriant beard, opened and closed. Satisfaction rolled through her at reducing him to speechlessness.
The seconds ticked by and she clung tightly to her courage. “Well?” she prodded.
He finally found his words, his voice husky and raw. “Go right ahead.”