Page 20
Story: Made (Not Too Late #9)
Kagan more or less shoved the huge bouquet at Esme. “Here. These are for you.”
Esme's arms automatically encircled the flowers, but once she was holding them, she couldn’t see. “Could you help? Perhaps put them on the table in the back? I can’t really, ah, see.”
Without a word, he took the bouquet and walked past her to the weaving studio in the rear. He knew the way, since he’d been in Esme’s inner circle for a while. Her reaction wasn’t exactly what he’d been hoping for, which made him anxious about whether or not he’d hit the mark with the flowers.
She followed him to the back and watched him set the bouquet on the table, all the while wondering if she had a vase large enough. He then turned to her for further instructions.
“Thank you,” she said tentatively. “This is… unexpected. Since I thought we aren’t…”
“ You thought we are no’ what?” Kagan’s presence flooded the space with concentrated ferocity.
And that intensity made him seem even larger than usual.
Once he’d made up his mind to challenge the breakup, he’d arrived as all male, on a mission, and determined not to be denied. “ We did no’ agree on anythin’.”
“Agree?”
“We started a thing together. If there’s to be an end, it should be mutually agreed. We end it together, or we do no’ end it at all. And no’ over somethin’ as bloody daft as thinkin’ you’re no’ my match.”
“But that’s…”
“Like I said. A bloody mad way of lookin’ at things.”
“You said daft, not mad.”
“What?” The fierce expression briefly melted into confusion.
“You said bloody daft then just now you said bloody mad.”
“You want to argue over that, Es?” He took three long strides toward her and closed most of the distance between them.
“No.” She shook her head as she took two short steps away, but her back hit the wall. “We’re not arguing over anything. We’re not together.”
And with that, the lion resurged. He once again closed the distance between them, but this time there was no more than inches separating their bodies.
“We damn well are together. If you do no’ want me, say that and I’ll walk out the door. But ‘tis the only reason I’ll be leavin’.”
Kagan, as hunter, was intensely focused on every aspect of Esme’s reaction.
When he saw the lines between her brows smooth out, he knew she was paying attention.
What he had yet to find out was whether she was open to persuasion.
He liked that Esme was as stubborn as they come.
The fact that she was no pushover was one of the things he found admirable about her.
His eyes dipped to her mouth. Her lips parted in response, drawing him closer like a magnet with mega-ton pull.
Kagan was close enough for the heat of his body to jumble Esme’s thoughts.
When she opened her mouth, she’d known what she was going to say, but then the shop door tinkled.
Blinking, as if trying to get a fix on where she was and what she was doing, she took a deep breath.
“I need to get that,” she said quietly, ducking away to rush toward the front of the store.
Kagan’s shoulders fell, but the tension in his body wasn’t relieved.
Not in the slightest. He would stand right where he was till she came back.
No. He’d listen for the customer to leave then hurry to turn the sign to “CLOSED” and lock the door.
Esme would object. Of course. But his errand was more important, to both of them, than any customer who might happen by.
He knew she wasn’t in need of money. So, Esme’s studio could stand an hour’s closure. More if he was lucky.
The visitor lingered for twenty minutes, normally nothing to a long-lived fae.
But in this singular case, it seemed like hours.
There was only one signal at the front door to alert Esme that a customer was coming or going.
When Kagan finally heard the delicate tinkle of bells, he acted on his plan.
After turning the sign to “CLOSED” and locking the door, he turned to face Esme.
He saw both confusion and irritation on her beautiful face.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “These are business hours.”
“Some things are more important than business. But if you do no’ agree, consider this a consultation for which I will pay your regular hourly rate.”
Esme scoffed. “I don’t have a regular hourly rate.”
“Good. Then I’ll be keepin’ my money in my pocket.”
Esme wanted to chastise Kagan and verbally punish him for his assumptions and his arrogance, but everything about his take-charge pursuit was thrilling, as was his insistence that they stay together.
“Alright. Keep your money. Say what you want to say then allow me to reopen my store.”
“Very well.”
He grabbed her by the hand and led her to the back, stopping at the exact spot where she’d been standing before they’d been interrupted by a possible sale.
He didn’t say what he wanted to say with words.
He said what he wanted to say with his body.
He pressed himself against her as his mouth fused with hers.
Esme might have wanted to resist, but found it quite impossible since she was in love and all.
She greedily accepted greedy kisses, demanding tongue, tender kisses, and the delectable torture of slow burn.
Kagan would’ve cried from relief, or shouted for joy, but he was busy making love to the female he’d never dared dream might be his one day.
She’d come into his life and given him a taste of bliss.
As far as he was concerned, she was his.
He was hers. And he wasn’t letting go. The best he could do to celebrate his victory verbally was a series of soft growls.
The sound and vibration, almost like a purr, spiked Esme’s excitement.
Being part lion, when Kagan smelled her arousal, his own desire accelerated, keeping pace with hers.
Long arm extended, he swiped at the bolts of fabric that were stacked on her workroom table and sent them flying.
She protested. “Wait!”
“No’ on your life,” he said as he lifted her onto the table and joined her there within seconds.
“We’re together. And ‘tis the end of it.” He pulled at the sweater she was wearing to bare her shoulder and cover it with kisses.
“Say it.” Esme was alternating between panting, gasping, and fumbling with the buttons on Kagan’s shirt, but she forgot all about misplaced folds of whole cloth.
He covered both her delicate hands with one of his and stopped her. “Say it!” he commanded.
She searched his eyes and saw that he meant to have her. Not just then. Forever. That was when she realized that station and status were irrelevant. Kagan had chosen her and didn’t care what other magic kind thought about it.
“We’re together,” she said quietly with the commitment he’d been craving when he’d stormed the studio.
With a wicked smile, he freed her hands and helped her out by removing his shirt in an instant.
Table of Contents
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- Page 20 (Reading here)
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