He paused and pressed his lips together, then took my hands again. “My family lives very different lives than I do. They don’t understand my interests and they don’t understand why I enjoy your company.” He sighed softly. “I don’t have a good relationship with them. They’ve made me…” He gulped. “They’ve made me feel a certain way about myself, and I don’t want to reopen those memories right now.” He rubbed soothing circles against my palms. “I’m—I’m not a bad person.” His voice was quiet toward the end.

By the way he said those last few words—so slow, so confused—I didn’t think he believed what he was telling me.

I gently squeezed his hands. “I know you’re a good person… I just don’t want to get hurt.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said.

The waiter reappeared with a basket of Fervor Crisps and one Passion delight—ruining the moment. “Anything else I can get you?”

“No,” Eros said.

“What about you, dear?”

“No,” Eros said again.

Before he returned to the bar, he brushed his fingers against my forearm. “By the way, I didn’t catch your name.”

I shuffled in my seat. “It’s, uh—”

“Leave us,” Eros said, jaw clenched.

The waiter hesitated but bowed his head again. “Again, my apologies.” He gazed at me. “Sweet dreams, my dear.” I wrinkled my nose at his departing figure. Talk about creepy.

When I looked back at Eros, he had nearly drunk half his Passion Delight already. His eyes were closed, shoulders relaxed, lips parted ever so slightly.

I sipped on my water. “What does your drink taste like?”

He reopened his dark, hazy eyes. “Like sex.”

“I didn’t know a drink could taste that good,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. I grabbed a Fervor Crisp from the basket and bit into it, moaning softly. A drunken smirk stretched across Eros’s face, and he snatched one too. “These are good,” I said to him. “But yours are so much better.”

By the end of the night, Eros was resting back against the booth—completely relaxed. He had finished two Passion Delights, and together we devoured the Fervor Crisps. We took a to-go bag and headed back home.

Every time I glanced over at Eros from the passenger seat, he looked tense. His jaw was clenched, his hand was tight around the steering wheel. It was a stark contrast to when we were at the bar. I placed my hand on top of his, hoping that it would relax him, but he immediately pulled it away. “Don’t do that, Dani.”

“Are you okay?”

He pressed his lips together and parked in the lot to our apartment building. The veins in his arms were visibly pulsing. “I shouldn’t have had that drink.”

“Are you feeling sick?” I asked, exiting the car and walking with him to the building.

“No.” He stayed a few feet away from me and walked onto the elevator.

What was happening? He was avoiding me like the damn plague.

I stayed quiet and watched the muscles flex through his shirt. My eyes wandered down his body.

“That’s not the problem,” he said finally.

When the elevator doors opened, we stepped out of the elevator. He walked in front of me, shutting me out. Oh, here we go again. He told me something personal, then acted all distant.

We reached my apartment first. He didn’t say goodnight to me, just grabbed his keys from his pocket and continued quickly to his door. I followed him. “What’s wrong with you, Eros?”

He clenched his jaw. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t give me that! I can’t figure you out.” I pressed my hands against my temples. “I’m tired of you playing with my feelings.”

“I’m not playing with your feelings.” His voice was stiff.

“You ignore me, you take me out, and when we get home, you’re suddenly distant again. What the hell is your problem?”

He turned toward me—eyes dark, wide, and angry. “You!”

I sucked in a breath full of cinnamon. Heart racing.

“You’re my problem, Dani.”

I pressed my lips together, nostrils flaring. “How the hell am I your problem?”

His eyes flickered to my lips, then he pushed me against the door, snatched my chin, and pressed his fingers hard into my skin. “Everything about you drives me fucking crazy.”

My eyes widened. “Well, if that’s how you feel then leave me alone.” I firmly pushed my palms into his chest.

He shuffled back a few steps but immediately pressed me against the door again. Forehead resting on my own. Lips dangerously close to mine. His fingers brushed against my hips. “I can’t get enough of you.” His irises were completely black now. He paused, and his eyes flickered to my lips.

Oh, God. He was going to do it. He was going to kiss me.

“Fuck it,” he said, pressing his lips to mine in a moment full of passion and lust and want and need.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER 26

OceanofPDF.com

Dani

One minute he was pushing me against the wall pressing his lips to mine, the next he was throwing me down onto his bed and tugging off his shirt.

His hands were all over my body. His hardness was pressing against the front of my jeans. I wrapped my legs around his waist, needing him closer. I had waited too long for this.

I ran my fingers all the way down his sculpted back, brushing them against two scars. He grabbed my wrists harshly and pinned them above me, then fingered the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head.

For almost a month, I had dreams of his fingers on my skin, his lips on my chest, his cock between my legs. But I never imagined that it would feel this good.

I ran my hands through his hair, making him groan. A wave of cinnamon engulfed us, and I inhaled the scent—getting drunk off of it.

With one hand, he groped my breast while the other was between my legs, pushing down my leggings. He placed hot, wet kisses down the center of my chest until he reached my bra line. His fingers curled around the hem of the cup, and he pulled it down, sucking my nipple into his mouth and grazing his teeth against it.

I gripped onto the bed sheets, brows knotting together. “Eros…”

He slipped his other hand into my panties and plunged them inside of me, thrusting them in and out. I dug my nails into his back, the pressure in my core rising with each thrust.

“Kiss me,” I said, breathlessly. He wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me toward him, pressing his lips onto mine.

My head felt light, and all I could focus on was him and his fingers between my legs and his lips on my own, the scent of cinnamon, the sharpness of his nails digging into my skin, the pure energy that passed from my lips to his.

“Please… Eros… don’t stop…” I asked as he thrusted his fingers quicker into me. The pressure was building up in my core, and when he bit down on my lip, I arched my back, moaned into his mouth, and came.

Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through my body. My mind felt fuzzy. My fingers were tingling. I wanted more.

He placed light kisses down my neck, down my chest, down my abdomen until he reached the waistband of my pants.

“What—what are you doing?” I asked in a daze.

He pulled down my pants, pressed his lips to my clit, and inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy. “You taste so fucking good.”

My legs trembled, but he wrapped his arms around them and forced them still. I gazed down at him, curling my fingers into his hair—right where he liked it. His irises darkened even more. They looked as if they were growing and consuming the whites of his eyes.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. He pulled his lips a few inches away from my pussy and dropped his head, so I couldn’t see his face. After taking a deep yet shaky breath, his jaw twitched. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He abruptly sat up and turned away from me. “Not now,” he said to himself. “Not fucking now.”