222 Grace: “Stargazing”
Ahem.
He wants to go stargazing? At oh–dark–thirty?
I should say no. I should go back to bed, where Sara and Bun are sprawled across my mattress like tiny dictators. I should absolutely not follow this man outside where anyone might see us while wondering if he’s going to slam me against his truck and have his wicked way with me.
My head spins from exhaustion, arousal, and the sudden energy transfer happening where our bodies connect. It’s flowing out of me faster now, making me lightheaded and warm. I lick my lips, trying to think clearly.
The man’s turning me into a closet pervert and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
“A little, but―”
I reach for the light switch for the strip lights on the camper’s exterior, but he suddenly jumps up the few steps to cover my hand with his.
“Me neither,” he admits, “but I’ll go crazy if I don’t touch you.”
“What are you—”
It’s clear star–gazing is not the point of us leaving the camper tonight, and flushes.
my face
The night air hits my bare legs as Caine opens the door, and I immediately regret not grabbing pants. At least I’m wearing panties this time, though, and the shirt is oversized enough to cover my thighs.
He nuzzles his nose against my cheek. Warm breath assaults my ear, sending a tremor through my entire body. “Mmm… Have you been practicing?”
A whimper escapes me, and my control over the arcana flowing between us falters. It surges again, wilder now, responding to the spike in my pulse. He slides his hands down, linking his fingers slowly with mine, and the feel of our fingers rubbing together sends electricity zapping up my limbs, then down into the core of me. I shiver, every nerve ending achingly aware of everywhere we touch.
Caine suddenly stops, and I nearly crash into his back. He turns and grabs my wrist, his grip gentle but firm.
Sucking in a deep breath, I close my eyes, trying to focus on the torrent of arcana
flowing between us. Something’s different about it tonight. The usual wild rush feels… tamer. More contained. Almost obedient, even. When I mentally nudge it to calm down, it actually does, leaving me wildly confused.
“Yes. Outside.” He gestures vaguely toward the door with something big and bulky in his hand, only to jerk it out of sight again and hold it in front of him. “It’s clear tonight.”
Everything is quiet and still; this isn’t a bustling area at any time of day or night, but I wonder how many people are in the shadows watching. There’s no way Ellie doesn’t have at least one spy on me at all times.
“You said you wouldn’t kiss me,” I accuse, though my voice is a little too breathy and melted to have much impact.
“Are you upset with me?” Caine asks, and I open my eyes to shake my head at him.
His touch sends a familiar jolt through me–the strange, electric current that connects us, mixed with the brain–melting heat of desire.
“You can look at the stars through the windshield if you want,” he says with a smile. But he’s positioned me facing him, my back to the windshield, making his suggestion completely ridiculous.
“Don’t,” he says softly.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“I won’t kiss you,” he promises. “I just want to hold you for a little bit. Can it?”
you handle
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