Page 51 of Nine-Tenths

"Yes. I hope that's okay?"

"It's fucking hot is what it is." I slide my nearest hand up the inside of his thigh, stopping just south enough that I can feel the edge of his underwear. He's a briefs man. Nice. "Look at my dragon, providing for me and shit."

Dav shudders once all over, eyelids fluttering. Well, now. That's a reaction that I last saw in a boyfriend when he was trying not to come too fast during a blowjob.

Verynice.

"Really?" I ask, delighted.

"Hush. You'll make me spill."

He does this fancy bartenderthingwith his wrist as he pours, and the wineleapsinto the glass with a mid-air twist to aerate it andholy shit.

"Not to be horny on main," I say, holding very still so I won't jostle him. "But do that the fuck again."

Dav laughs and pours the second glass with the same sexy flourish. I want to appreciate it, I really do, but there's something else I want to appreciate more first.

"Oh my god, put that bottle down right now, come here."

I flop back, yanking him on top of me. Dav laughs joyously. It makes his stomach bounce against mine. He's heavy, andreal,and it's wonderful. I want to leave bruises on his hips, grab greedy handfuls of his gorgeous ass, lick all the way up his spine. All I can reach right now is his mouth, though, so I bite it.Dav groans and props himself up on his elbows, fingers carding through my hair, and I fist my hands in his shirt so he can't get away.

"Colin?" he moans, and I fuckinglovethe way he says my name.

"Just kissing for now," I reassure him. I like knowing the endgame when it comes to being naked and vulnerable. That way, I can enjoy what's happening instead of worrying myself over what may or may not be coming next. I flatten my palms against his chest, sliding my thumbs up to trace the slutty, slutty vee of skin revealed by his collar with my thumbs.

"Hm, yes," Dav agrees, and gets to it with a fervor.

Holy shit, he hasnotkissed me like this before. Like he wants to thoroughly map all the vectors of whatjust kissingcan entail. I'd dragged him into the cradle of my thighs, but he props his hips back, polite. I'm already half-mast, but I can't tell if he's getting hard, and the fact that he's not making that my problem by grinding it against me makes me want to grope his polite ass evenmore. Goddamn.

"Unk," I manage to moan when he slides that beautiful forked tongue of his out of my mouth and up around my ear, then uses it to great effect on my neck. There's going to be a hickey high enough up foreveryoneto see tomorrow and I don't evencare.

"Budge back," Dav says an eternity ofwarm, wet, softlater.

I'm too high on the taste, and feel, and smell of him to do anything but obey. Propped up against the sofa arm, Dav lifts one of the glasses to my lips.

"Drink." His voice is like smoke and fire, dark and rich, and deep. I give one of those full-body shudders of my own.

The wine is like his voice—deep and smoky. Also kind of like blackberry jam? I know a lot aboutgrowingwine, but not a lot about tasting it. But I know what I like, and this isgood.

"That's amazing."

"I'm glad you think so." He kisses a spilled drop from the corner of my mouth. My brain flashes to every romance novel I've ever read where the love interest does the same. It’s much nicer in person than on the page.

"You brought me wine from your own cellar," I repeat. He offers another sip, and this is so fuckingromanticmy whole body is buzzing.

"I thought we could try it with this." He sets the wine down and retrieves something else from the crumpled tote bag. It's a small box with a purple ribbon that readsLaura Secord Chocolates.

"What if it was a fluke?" I sit up all the way now. "You don't want to spend all night holding my hair back."

"I would, if you wanted," Dav says, sitting back. "I thought perhaps you've never had the opportunity to experience quality chocolates before."

"I'm curious as hell, I'm not gonna lie."

He hands over the box. Inside, two small truffles nestled in purple paper grass shine like glossy stones. Then the smell hits me. It’s the scent of childhood misery and hours in the bathroom.

"I can’t do it," I say, handing it back. "I’m sorry, I hate to waste your money—"

"It is no waste." He ties the box back up. "I'll give them to Hadi."