The Wicked(5)

"Now do I act like that when I hand you a piece of fruit?" he asked, cutting off a juicy hunk of pineapple and feeding it to her over the counter.

"Fruit doesn't run blood, Carlos."

"Oh, no? Then what's this?" he said, leaning in toward her and kissing the juice off her chin, totally ignoring the steak between them. "The fruit is bleeding... just 'cause it's sweet and almost clear doesn't mean it's not-"

"Oh, man! You are ruining pineapple for me forever!" she squealed, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

"Then come over here and sit down and let me make it up to you. Gimme that terrible image... and let me work with it," he said, his laughter becoming a low rumble in his chest. "Sun's going down, too... sheeit. I'll make pineapple your passion again before the night's over."

"Eat your dinner," she argued, playfully escaping his grasp but coming to sit beside him on a blond oak stool. "I went to all this trouble, the least you could do is taste it."

"All right, all right," he said resignedly, pulling her into his lap. He kissed her slowly and then looked at her. "I do appreciate everything you've done for me, baby." Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against hers. "Bless this food and the one who prepared it. Thank you, God."

They sat that way for a moment, her fingers stroking his hair, bare legs and bare feet touching, arms about each other in a loose embrace.

"I still can't believe we're married," she whispered as her mouth swept his temple. "You're my husband."

"Say it again," he murmured against her ear with his eyes still closed. "I love to hear you say that."

"You're my husband," she whispered and nipped his ear. "You're my sexy... wonderful, forever husband," she said against his throat, making his embrace tighter as she dotted each word with a kiss. "My... husband," she said over his lips, and then pulled back. "So eat."

He smiled and opened his eyes, then took her mouth hard.

"The steak!" she squealed, laughing as he stood up, toppled the stool, and started walking away from the kitchen with her in his arms.

"Oh... the steak?" he said, teasing her. "Oh, yes, the bloody steak." He looked at her, making her shake her head and laugh harder. "Decisions, decisions. My wife, or the steak-the steak, or my wife? Her now and microwaved beef later, or the steak now and her re�heated later? I don't know, D... what should I do?"

"In four days and nights, you've practically starved me," she groaned, still giggling. "Just let me get a little bite of something," she said, laughing harder as he tilted his head to offer her his throat. "I mean something that I candigest, Carlos. Remember food? I'mhun�gry."

"Ah... the lady says she needs human nourishment for stamina. Okay." He paced back to the kitchen, plopped her down on the counter, and stood in front of their plates, one hand on her thigh.

She swallowed a smile, the possessive move to keep her where he'd set her down not lost on her at all. With a mischievous grin, he began feeding her sections of pita dipped in hummus and seemed to revel in the way she slowly cut his steak and offered him a bite of it on his fork.This was heaven. Sheloved when he got that devastated expres�sion in his eyes. But he shook his head.

"Why not?" She pouted, disappointed that he wouldn't try the steak, and she looked at him hard then at the cut meat, wondering what was wrong with it.

He smiled wider. "Take it off the silver and feed it to me au na-turel... use your fingers."

"Oh," she said with a grin.

"Nowthat's good," he said in a sensual rumble, pulling the juicy meat from her fingers and sucking her index finger and thumb. "Way better. I think I'm developing an allergy to silver."

"Stop lying, man," she said, cutting him another hunk of steak. "Your eyes are glowing silver."

He knew they had to be; his tattoos were burning up.

"Do tell? I wonder why." He took another bite of steak from her graceful fingers and chewed it slowly as he brought her plate over to feed her more of her vegetarian selections. But he almost dropped the plate as she captured his thumb and drew it into her mouth in a puls�ing suckle.

"You're starting to sweat silver, too," she said with an impish grin. "Might go solid gold on you tonight if you keep that up," he said as he kissed between her br**sts. "So you better bust a good grub now, 'cause there's no telling how long I'ma keep you hostage in the other room."

"Is that a threat, Mr. Rivera? 'Cause you know I brought my blade."

"It's a promise, Mrs. Rivera," he murmured against her warm shoulder. "Keep messing with me, hear."

"Well since you're talking possible all-out war..." she murmured, giving him another piece of steak and allowing a bit of the juice to drip on her thigh.

He looked at the red splatter on her leg, bent slowly to lick it while still looking up at her. "All-out battle-hard down, no negotiating... taking no prisoners tonight."

"Do tell?" she said, chuckling low and sensually as he came up to claim her mouth, cresting a hint of fang. "But I have to eat my salad first." She glimpsed him with a teasing smile, grabbed her salad bowl, and ate very slowly, munching the greens casually. "You're not aller�gic to balsamic vinaigrette dressing, are you?"