Until Talon (Until Him 4)

I’ve never done anything like that with anyone. The guy I dated for a few years didn’t get me to the point where I would beg him to take me. God, Talon didn’t even get undressed, and when I reached for him, he said, “This is about you,” like… like I don’t even know.

“I should—”

“No,” he cuts me off and tightens his arms around me when I try to get up. “While you’re sitting here on my lap, in my arms, freaking yourself out, baby, I want you to know that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“What?” I whisper, tipping my head back to see him, and his hand comes up to cup my cheek.

“Mia, I want you. I think I’ve made that pretty clear,” he says, and I swallow against the intensity in his stare. “Having you so hot for me that you get off almost the minute I get my mouth on you is not something I consider a problem.”

“Oh God.” My cheeks heat. “That’s never happened to me before.”

“I’m not going to be upset about that shit either, but while we’re on the subject…” His fingers smooth over my jaw. “I know you’ve got a past. I have one too, and if you have questions for me, I will answer them, but I don’t want to talk about the men you’ve been with.” He gives me a squeeze, which feels just as possessive as his next word. “Ever.”

I lick my lips then nod. “Got it.”

“Good, are you okay now?” His fingers continue to skim my cheek.

“If I’m honest, I feel a little overwhelmed about everything.” I mean, I knew he liked me, but I realize now that he really likes me, and that makes me feel scared as hell but even more sure about pursuing things with him.

“I get that.” He smiles gently. “A lot has happened since you got here.”

“You can say that again.” I shiver, and he leans forward, brushing his lips across mine before very sweetly adjusting my bra and leaning over for my shirt, which he helps me put on.

“As much as I’m enjoying you right here—” His palm moves up my bare thigh, reminding me how exposed I still am. “—I need to feed you, which means I need to get started on dinner.”

“Okay,” I say softly, then following my gut, I lean forward to kiss him before I stand on shaking legs, thankful my shirt is long enough to cover my bottom. “Umm… can I use the bathroom?” My cheeks warm, because just from the look he gives me, I know he knows how wet I still am, and judging by him adjusting himself, he’s still very much turned on.

“Come on.” He grabs my shorts then takes my hand and leads me back to the kitchen and down a short hall before opening the door at the end. When we walk into his room, I’m surprised once more, because all there is, is a bed that looks half made and a dresser, nothing else. He leads me to an open door I can see is a bathroom then grabs a towel and washcloth off a shelf. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” He kisses my forehead then disappears.

I make quick work of cleaning myself up, and when I catch my reflection, I blink in surprise. I don’t know if it’s Talon’s honesty or the mind-blowing orgasms I just had, but I look content, happy even, instead of scared or maybe panicked like I think I should be, like I would normally be after experiencing that level of intimacy with a man I’m just getting to know. I finish getting dressed, run my fingers through my hair, then go in search of Talon. I find him on the back deck, and when I step outside, his eyes warm as they roam over me from my hair to my toes before he holds out his hand. I walk toward him, and the moment I’m close, he tucks me under his arm, using his free hand to place steaks on the grill.

“It smells delicious,” I say, and my stomach growls in agreement.

“A buddy of mine taught me how to make the marinade when I was in Alaska.”

“What’s in it?” I ask when he closes the lid on the grill.

“Beer, orange juice, lime, garlic, oregano, Worcestershire sauce, and a few other things I can’t tell you.”

“Already keeping secrets?”

“After we get married, I’ll tell you.” He turns toward me so we’re front-to-front then tucks some hair behind my ear. “So damn pretty.” They’re both throwaway comments; I know that by the way he easily says them. That doesn’t mean they don’t hit me right in the gut as I stare into his gorgeous eyes. Good Lord, I hardly know him, and he’s already crawled under my skin and made himself at home there.