Eating Her Heart Out - Page 5

She nodded and blew on the hot liquid before saying, “Your family is obviously as close as mine. I hope my husband and I are as tight with our kids when they grow up.” Her tone was wistful, and I tamped down a moment of jealousy, wondering who she imagined this husband to be.

I pondered that for a moment and took a sip of my drink, watching her graceful movements and again wondering if I’d been wrong about her. “I don’t think I’ve asked. What are you majoring in?”

“Interior design.”

She went on to tell me why she picked the program and what she planned to do with it after graduation, thoroughly impressing me.

“I hope I’ll find that husband one day, but until then, I’m excited to make my mark on the world. Even if it’s just through the colors of paint on a wall.”

Our drinks were finished, but we sat there for another half hour talking. It was the first time it had been easy and natural. She was still lit with happiness and effervescing charisma that drew people to her like a moth to a flame, but…she was also calm and exuded a confidence I hadn’t seen in her previously. The thought occurred to me that we’d never really been alone together. Would it have been like this? Maybe it had been the people around us that had agitated her, making her lose her center.

I could certainly relate to an extent. Katie had a way of upending my world when she was near. Thinking straight was often difficult, but I had always been on the quiet side and not an outwardly emotional person, so I didn’t appear to be anything but composed.

After a period of silence, I stood and took both of our mugs to the sink. When I turned back around, Katie was standing by her chair, her expression sad and her light dimmer than I’d ever seen it.

“It was really nice to have you here, Sawyer.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Which bothered me more than I expected.

“I know it may not have seemed like it, but I enjoyed getting to know you,” I admitted.

A little glimmer returned to her gaze. “Me too.” She chuckled and shook her head. “I mean, it was great getting to know you, too.”

Silence hung awkwardly between us for a moment before she pivoted and walked toward the door.

“Katie.”

She stopped in the doorway and twisted around to look at me.

I crossed over to her and cleared my throat, shoring up the courage to ask the question that had been burning in my gut since she mentioned it. “Do you have a boyfriend, Katie? Someone you're picturing as the husband in that scenario?”

She smiled, and her cheeks turned pink before she shook her head. “No boyfriend.” After a pause, she continued, “But there are moments when I see what the future Mr. Katie Blake looks like.”

“Oh?” I stepped closer until we were standing toe-to-toe.

Her eyes dropped to my mouth for a second before meeting my gaze again, and I almost groaned when she licked her lips. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

Fuck it. I threaded my fingers into her hair and lifted her face so when I bowed my head, we were barely a breath apart. “Maybe I’ll change it.” Then I kissed her.

Heat exploded between us, the air crackling with electricity, and desire roared through my body. Shit. Shit. Shit. I should never have given in. I had no idea how I was going to stop. My control was at an all-time low, and I was seriously considering fucking her in the pantry a few feet away.

I didn’t know where the fuck I gained the strength, especially with the way her body melted into mine, but after a few minutes of devouring her, I finally pulled back.

Katie’s eyes were wide with shock and burning with need. I almost went in for another taste but let her go instead.

“Why, um, why did you do that?”

I was searching for an answer when I happened to look up and see a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the center of the doorjamb.

“Oh. Mistletoe. Right.” When I glanced at her face, her expression had crumpled, but before I could clarify, she’d whispered good night and was hurrying toward the stairs.

I wanted to call her back, to tell her how badly I wanted her, but our timing was shit. She still had a few months of school, and I had things I wanted to do—preparations I wanted to make—before we took the next step.

“Sawyer?”

My gaze had been on her, but my mind had been elsewhere, so I was surprised to see her still at the bottom of the steps. “What, baby?” Son of a fucking bitch. Did you just call her baby, Ward? What the fuck? Yeah, I was twenty kinds of dumbass.

Tags: Fiona Davenport Erotic
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