“Can I ask you something?” she asks.
Still slightly breathless, I simply nod.
She lets her head fall against the brick wall so she can peer into my eyes, search them before asking her question. “Is it always like this?”
I know what she means. Volatile. Wild. Passionate. Satisfying. Perfect.
What do I say? That in my vast experience it’s never been like this? Never been a conflagration of savory smoke and white-hot flame? That I’ve never wanted to break my rules for anyone, no matter how good the sex? That when I saw her on that hill four years ago, I knew I’d never forget her, and that when I saw her again I knew I had to have her? And that being with her, being inside of her surpasses anything I’ve ever had with anyone else?
If I tell her the truth, it might lead her to believe I can break my rule.
Worse, I might believe it.
So I lie.
“Sometimes.”
She watches me for an extra second before nodding and shifting her hips.
“Shit,” I hiss. That simple movement feels so good, my dick stirs, and I want to start all over again, surge into her and lose all sense of the world except Lennix Moon Hunter as my one point of light.
“Dammit.” I shake my head, disgusted with sudden realization. “Forgot the condom. I’m so sorry, Nix.”
Her eyes widen. She bites her lip, her long lashes dropping.
“My godmother works at a clinic,” she says, her voice husky and her breath still short. “She’s had me on the pill since I was sixteen, and I’m clean. I mean, you know I’ve never been with anyone else.”
She meets my eyes, silently asking for my reply.
“I’m clean,” I rush to assure her. “Yeah, no. I always use protection and get tested regularly just to be . . . I’m clean, but I’m still sorry I got caught up that way. I would never want to make you feel unsafe.”
“Geest als ik meedoe?” a gruff male voice asks a few feet deeper into the alleyway, just beyond the edge of light.
“Fuck off,” I snap, turning Lennix’s head into my neck so he can’t see her face.
“What’d he say?” she mumbles, her breath warm against my skin.
“Um, he asked if he could join us,” I grit out, mortified that I put her in this position.
A muffled giggle rasps into my hair. I pull back, staring down at her in the faint light from the street. “Are you . . . laughing?” I ask, the grin on my own face surprising me.
Her legs drop from my waist and her feet hit the ground. She presses her palms to my chest, leaning forward and looking up at me with a wide smile. “You have to admit it’s kind of funny.”
“No, I don’t.” I slide my hands down to frame her hips. “The rain has let up some. Let’s get out of here before he presses the issue. I’d prefer not to end up in a Dutch prison.”
I take her hand and we venture back out into the street. Now there’s only the faintest drizzle, a steady light shower. She lifts her arms, spreading her fingers like some young goddess receiving an offering poured from the sky. The rivulets bathe her face, crystalline drops clinging to the curled tips of her lashes. Something clinches in my chest at the sight of her. Some part of me moves that I didn’t know existed. I take her arm and stop us in the middle of the street, in the middle of the rain, in the middle of one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and I kiss her.
Even drenched by a downpour, we’re thirsty for each other. Her mouth goes wide and searches under mine. I feel every line and curve of her body through the wet dress clinging to her. I cling to her. My shoes are slogged, droplets run down my back, but lightning would have to strike us before I’d let her go.
Finally, she pulls away, her eyes as dazed as I feel. Her mouth, swollen, and wet with raindrops and kisses, curves into a secret smile. She walks ahead, turning to face me and keeps stepping backward. She flicks her head in the direction of my house, which is in view, but still over a hundred feet away.
“Race?” she asks.
Before I can answer, she takes off, slipping on the cobblestones, pumping her arms and legs. Her siren laughter drifts back to me, and I shake myself, running to catch her. She’s halfway up the steps of my rented house when I zip past her to reach the door a second before she does.
“No fair,” she breathes, exerted, gorgeous.
“You even had a head start.” I laugh, unlocking and opening the door, and then dragging her in with me by the hand. “To the victor go the spoils.”