“Bee, I’m only taking your coat off,” he says smoothly as he places it on the table beside me and then touches the edge of my scarf. He begins to tug it and it comes undone from around my neck.
“No that’s fine,” I rush to tell him because I don’t want him to think that’s why I was panicking.
I grab my gloves and take them off, too, because the urge to touch him is too strong. He smiles as he takes them from my hand and places them on top of my coat. Then he folds my scarf neatly and places that on the table with slow care.
He looks at me, then his hand reaches up and strokes my cheek. “Fuck, you’re soft.”
My lips part at his curse because I’ve never heard someone say that word before. I saw it scratched on a rest stop bathroom one time when I was twelve, and I’ve read it in my dirty books. But no one has ever said it in front of me or to me. Although I’m not sure whether he’s talking to me right now or to himself.
“You really shouldn’t have given me a ride home.”
Chapter Four
Ragnar
I expect her eyes to show fear, or at least some form of self-preservation. But to my shock she leans into my touch. I can feel her heartbeat on the tips of my fingers, but it’s not rapid and afraid. She’s excited, that much I can tell by the way her nipples are pressing against her threadbare top. She’s wearing a long jean skirt that covers most of her lower half, and if I had to describe her style I’d say it was a bit homely. Her clothes look like they’ve been worn through several people before they were handed to her, and even her coat and gloves are shabby. It was hard to see it in the dark earlier, but here in the light I can tell she doesn’t come from much.
“Why not?” she asks softly, looking up at me.
The way she’s dressed makes me thinks she’s far more innocent than I first surmised, but all it does is whet my appetite. How delicate and special she is only makes my need for her grow. And I know that makes me a sick fuck, but I don’t care.
“Because now I don’t want to let you go,” I say and her cheeks flush.
Her baggy, worn clothing does nothing to hide her true beauty even though she does nothing to enhance it. Most young women her age wear lots of makeup and color their hair. Bee looks like she’s hardly seen the light of day with how her skin glows. It’s like sweet milk and I want to taste it, but I’m trying to control myself.
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” She looks away from me and to the fire as I reach behind us to the table and grab the wine glasses.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask, and she pauses as if to think it over. “Have you ever had wine before?”
“No, I’m not old enough.” She watches me pour a glass and licks her lips. I can see the longing in her eyes again.
“You can have a taste,” I say as I hold it out to her. She hesitates for only a second before she brings the glass to her lips and takes a sip. She thinks it over for a second before she shrugs and hands it back to me.
“I don’t know anything about wine, but it kind of tastes like sour Kool-Aid.”
I laugh as I take the glass from her and then drink from the same place she put her lips. Her dark green eyes don’t miss anything. Her full lips part and I wonder if she’s thinking about what it would be like to kiss me right now. That’s the only thing going through my mind, but I should know better. This one is too young for me, too sweet and wholesome. But all of those reasons are why I want her so badly.
I’ve never seen someone so pure before and the thought of her innocence coating my cock has me ready to put her on her back. I have to look away from her and take a breath so I can get myself under control. I’m like a shark that’s smelled blood in the water and I can’t think straight.
Getting all those clothes off her hasn’t done me any favors because now I can see what lies beneath. Her breasts are too large for her small frame, but they look so soft and natural. I bet she’s embarrassed by their size and covers them up, and the thought gets me harder. Would her nipples be a dark rosy color like her lips? Would she cover them up when I stripped her bare?