All that tightness melted like buttercream over warm cake. I struggled not to sigh like a besotted fool. But I probably failed, because her happy smile returned, wider now, like she was excited to see me. My body felt lanky—awkward, even—as I went to greet her, sliding my hand to the back of her slim neck before ducking down to kiss that pretty pink mouth.
She tasted like lemonade and Emma, a flavor I couldn’t break down but that was fast becoming my favorite. She hummed with pleasure as I drew away with a last lingering nuzzle.
“I’m starved,” I told her hoarsely. I was starved for her. And she knew it. Her face was far too expressive. On myself, I’d consider that a liability, but with Emma, I craved watching her, figuring out what she was thinking just by the way the delicate curves of her face moved.
But I was also weakened. So I sat down and let her serve me, knowing she took pleasure in doing that as well. I understood. Feeding people—pleasing them with food—was satisfying on a bone-deep level.
Delilah’s offer flickered through my head, causing my pulse to kick up a little with anxious beats. At one time, I’d wondered if I should become chef de pâtissier like Jean Philipe. But that hadn’t been his dream for me. He’d never truly gotten to see me play. What would he think of me now? Floundering without direction. He would have hated that.
Stomach quaking, I gave Emma what was probably a fake-ass smile as she set a bowl in front of me. “Thanks, Snoop.”
She took a seat next to me and started to eat, her gaze darting to me with clear hesitation. “You okay?”
She claimed she saw strength when she looked at me, but I felt as though I’d only shown her weakness.
“I’m good.” Another fake smile pulled at my lips. “Especially after your . . . what are we calling it? Remedy?”
“I was going to go with blow job,” Emma countered with a cheeky smirk.
“I’m good with that.” We ate in relative silence, and I let her fuss over me, getting me slices of bread, a glass of lemonade. Because it made her happy. And a happy Emma glowed with an inner light that I couldn’t take my eyes off.
I waited until she’d cleared the dishes, watched her pert ass flex and move beneath the thin cover of my shirt as she bent to put the bowls in the dishwasher. When she came near again, I hooked my arm around the curve of her waist and hauled her onto my lap.
She came willingly, laughing a bit, as if startled. Her weight settled on my thighs, warm and grounding. My hands found the juicy globes of her ass, and I gave them an appreciative squeeze as I drew her closer. That I could touch her now was a gift. A dream.
Emma’s hands settled on my chest. I felt that touch in the center of me.
“Hey,” I whispered, smiling as I kissed her softly, lightly. A little hello. A small taste.
I felt her smile against mine. “Hey.”
I kissed her again. An acknowledgement. “Thank you for taking care of me, Emma.”
The concession was worth it, just to see the way her eyes lit with happiness.
Her hands tunneled into my hair. “You’re welcome, Lucian.”
I wanted to make love to this woman. Take my time, learn her secrets, what made her sigh, what made her cry out for mercy.
My mouth moved over the satin skin of her cheek to the curve of her neck. She shivered, tilting her head to give me access, her fingertips pushing deeper into my chest. She smelled good, sweet. The swells of her breasts brushed my chest, and my breath hitched, my hands gripping her ass harder.
Needy. She made me needy. Took me apart in ways I couldn’t predict.
I loved it. Hated it. But I didn’t stop kissing her, my tongue slipping out to taste her skin.
Emma shivered again, rocked into me, her fingers threading through my hair. “Lucian?”
“Hmm . . .” My lids lowered as I nuzzled the hollow of her throat.
“I want to ask you something, but I’m afraid you’ll get upset.”
Her words crusted over my skin, rendering me still. Then I breathed, pretended my pulse hadn’t spiked. But she probably felt it, as close as she was.
More interested in kissing than talking, I trailed my lips back up to her jawline. “That sounds a lot like bait, honey.”