Page 108 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars
“I always trusted you, Linc. Even when I was mad at you, that didn’t go away.”
Our eyes meet, and just like before, a shock shoots through me, sharp as a paper cut. This girl does something to my synapses, sending all my neurons running around aimlessly like overexcited toddlers at a birthday party who’ve eaten too much cake. My brain won’t function normally. My heart’s racing, thudding like a bass drum in my chest. My mouth’s gone dry. All I can think about is getting her into bed, crushing my lips to hers, and giving her pleasure until she sighs my name. I want to do that more than anything in the world. I want to make her happy, to see her eyes light up with smiles, and to make sure no other man ever touches her again.
Jesus. I’ve got it bad.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elora
The venison is magnificent, and Linc’s exclamations as he tucks into his beef tell me his meal is just as tasty. The duck-fat potatoes are crunchy on the outside and fluffy on the inside, and the seasonal veg is firm and full of flavor. It’s a magnificent meal, and I eat every mouthful, and feel stuffed full near the end.
“Dessert?” he asks, but I’m far too full to eat anything more.
I’ve finished my glass of wine, though, and enjoyed it enough to ask him if I can have another.
“Are you sure?” he asks with a frown. I nod, and so he pours me another small glass, tipping the remainder of the bottle into his own. “I’m not sure about this,” he says. “I’m not taking you to bed if you’re inebriated.”
“I’m not going to get blotted on two tiny glasses,” I scoff. “They’re barely a quarter full. I just want to relax.”
He swirls the ruby-red liquid around in his glass, looking a little puzzled. “Why? Do you feel tense?”
“No… not yet.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
I moisten my lips, not missing the way his gaze drops to them, and lean on the table. “I’m hoping you’ll go up to thirty percent.”
His lips curve up. “I see. So what does this involve, in your opinion?”
“I want you to be on top.”
He studies me, his gaze thoughtful. He knows what I’m saying, and why I might be nervous about it.
And it’s true, I’m a little anxious in case it brings back memories, but equally the thought of him being more in charge fills me with excitement.
“You’re sure?” he asks again.
I nod. “I’ve got to do it at some point, and I’d rather it was sooner than later.” I look into the wine glass. “I understand why Dad hates alcohol and drugs, and why he didn’t want me to become dependent on them. But I’m an adult now, and I can make my own decisions.”
He nods. “That’s true.” He watches me sip the wine. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m a long way from being drunk, but I feel pleasantly mellow. It’s as if someone has come up to me with a piece of sandpaper, and they’ve smoothed off all my sharp angles.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have a single sharp angle. You’re all curves.” He smirks.
“Are you talking about my boobs?”
“Most definitely.”
I giggle and have another mouthful of wine. Okay, maybe it is having an effect. But I like how it makes me feel. Relaxed. Carefree. A tiny bit reckless. If I was anywhere else, I might worry about that. But I’m with Linc. I’m safe. I trust him. And I’m happy to give up control to him.
He looks away, out of the window, and I follow his gaze. The sun is lower in the sky now, although it’s a few hours from setting. The mountains are lit with its golden-orange light, backlit by the deep-blue sky. Lights are popping on in the town and in the houses on the other side of the valley. Shops are closing, and everyone is having dinner and getting ready to settle down for the evening.
My gaze returns to Linc. He’s still looking out of the window, giving me a view of his gorgeous profile. He isn’t unaffected by the wine. He’s had more than me, and although I have a feeling he can handle his alcohol quite well, his eyelids have dropped to half-mast, and his hair is ruffled where he’s run his hand through it half a dozen times, making him look less smooth and sophisticated than before. He’s slid down in his seat a little, and his knees are splayed wide in typical boy fashion.
He brings his gaze back to me, and there’s something in his eyes again that sends a delicious frisson running down my spine. My nipples tighten in my bra, and my pulse speeds up, all with that look. He’s thinking about having sex with me. About taking control. He’s as excited about it as I am.
We don’t speak for a while. We finish off our wine slowly, just watching each other. He looks amused and turned on, so hot and young and sexy, and I can feel my body preparing itself for him, swelling and moistening, little tremors occurring in my muscles, and an ache building between my thighs.
