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“These aremadewith beeswax?” Zorion asks, holding one out and looking at it reverently. “I’ll take them all.”
Gramps and I both laugh as I start to clear them away, but it’s soon clear that Zorion is serious. “You really want to buy some?” I ask.
“Notsome. All of them. I wantallof them.”
“They’re twenty bucks each,” I say, not daring to get my hopes up as I count out all the little animals on the table and try to figure out how much of our back rent that might pay. If it would be enough to hold off the eviction for a little while longer.
“Is that all?”
“The bigger ones are thirty,” I say quickly.
Gramps’s mouth hangs open. He looks like he’s going to try to be nice to his new friend, but I give him a look and shake my head.
“I’ve never seen anything so exquisite. Nothing smells better than these,” Zorion says emphatically. He gives me a look that sends an electric shock down my spine as he leans close, sniffing my hair. “Except maybe you, Kara.” His voice is a low rumble that only I can hear and it makes me press my legs together as heat pools between them. He straightens up, nodding. “I really do want them all. I don’t care what the price is. It’s worth it.”
To prove his point he pulls out a snakeskin wallet and opens it up, pulling out a wad of cash that makes my head spin. I hurry to pack them up while Gramps takes the money, still looking a bit guilty.
“You’re an amazing artist, sir,” Zorion says. “I’m proud to own these.” There’s only sincerity in his voice and he does look pleased with his purchase, so Gramps’s shoulders finally relax.
We’re so accustomed to pinching every penny that we’re not used to someone dropping several hundred dollars on lumps of beeswax. We’re always thrilled when the gift shop sells out of our lip balms, but we only get half purchase price back in profit from those. I find myself relaxing like Gramps, the threat of being homeless out of my mind for the moment at least, as we all settle in with dinner chores.
Gramps grates cheese while Zorion slices carrots and cucumbers for a salad. I’m in charge of setting the table. Since we have a guest and my mood is so good, I decide to bring down Grandma’s good china from the top shelf for the occasion. It’s higher than I can reach standing on my toes, so I turn to drag the step stool out of the closet. Before I take a step in that direction, Zorion’s big, strong hands are at my waist and he lifts me so high that my head nearly touches the ceiling.
As soon as I have what I need, he lowers me to the floor, my backside dragging along the length of him. With his hands firmly at my waist, he holds me close for a second so I can feel how hard he is again. Then my feet touch the tile and he’s smiling at me as he settles back in to chop vegetables, not seeming anywhere near as shaken as I am to encounter his rock-hard cock against my ass.
It all happens so fast, Gramps doesn’t even notice, still chattering away about how he got into beekeeping. My hands tremble, making the fine china rattle as I carry the plates to the table, not sure if or how I’ll be able to act civilized knowing what’s so close to me. Once again, I’m only thinking about the kiss that nearly knocked me flat last night, and hoping for a replay.
When we all sit down to eat, it’s as if the two men have been lifelong friends. I find myself keeping a close eye on Zorion, still uncertain what his game is. If he even has one. I’ve always been protective of my grandpa since he’s everything to me, and I want to make sure Zorion isn’t going to overturn our quiet life. This big, bizarre stranger has already made me feel all topsy turvy.
And Zorion is certainly bizarre. It’s not just his handsome face that keeps me enthralled, even though his glances at me across the table keep heating me up to the point I can barely chew. It’s that his long, intent looks arereallylong. Like, he barely blinks at all. And his eyes really do flash and change, no matter what kind of light he’s in. The fact he can pick me up like I weigh no more than a teacup is a bit disconcerting, too.
He catches me looking at him, and he winks. Feeling my face heating up, I concentrate on the food I can barely eat. What is it about this strange, bewitching man that has me feeling like I’m going to tumble over the edge of something?
And why am I so eager to fall?
Chapter 5
Zorion
When dinner is over, Kara’s grandfather excuses himself to lie down. I realize I’ve been dying to be alone with her, even though I enjoyed the old man’s company. But ever since that smile lit up Kara’s face when I bought the beeswax figurines, I’ve needed to get her all to myself.
I was able to leave the night before, proving I could still control myself. That was enough to know I could return to see her again. Even the tight rein I keep on myself wants to give to my instinctual gluttony. Everything has to be above and beyond with me, and the whole time I’ve waited to have Kara to myself, I was certain I’d want to dive right in. But there’s another layer to being with her that I’ve never experienced before. Oh, I still want to put my hands on her, taste her lush mouth and hear her moans, but I also feel oddly …
Satisfied?
It’s completely unfamiliar, so I’m not quite sure if that’s what it is. And just from being near her? Impossible, and yet, it’s what I’m feeling. She’s definitely not like anyone I’ve ever known.
After we clear away the dishes, she nods toward the backyard. Through the glass door I see a picnic table on the far end of the yard and offer my arm as we go down the short flight of stairs. The only sound outside is the soft whirring of the wind through the tops of the trees and the crackle of our feet on the leaves that have begun to fall. The only light is one spare bulb at the back door that barely illuminates the porch. The scattering of stars in the dark blanket of sky above us fades in and out as clouds move slowly across them.
While I have no trouble seeing in the dark, I know humans do. I don’t want Kara to hurt herself again, so I pick her up and carry her to the table. She giggles into my neck as I hold her flush to my body, letting her slide down to feel how quickly and easily I react to her.
“You don’t have to do that,” she says as I settle her on the table and sit beside her. She looks up at the sky, but I only have eyes for her.
“I know,” I tell her. “I want to.”
She swallows hard and glances at me, down at my lap where my cock is still fighting against my pants. Biting her lip, she smiles up at me, her cheeks flaming.
“Okay,” she answers, embarrassed but also eager. She tentatively reaches for my arm and I hold it out, ready to offer her anything she wants from me. She pushes the sleeve up and traces her finger over my tattoos, squinting down at them. “It’s hard to make out what they are.”
