Page 36 of Silver Linings

twenty

. . .

My gaze darts around, glancing at the many safety hazards scattered throughout the store. “Here?”

“Yes, here. Between hundreds of books filled with romantic stories, let me give you one of your own.” He keeps his hand outstretched, waiting on faith alone that I’ll take it and join him.

“There are stories about murder in here too, you know.” He spears me with a don’t be a smartass glare.

I tentatively reach out, my nerves making my insides quake like tectonic plates are shifting inside my body, as he grabs ahold and lifts me from the floor. The strength of his pull, however, is more than I expected, and the trajectory has me flying up into his hard body.

“Oophfff.”

A laugh rumbles out of his chest as I let my forehead fall against it and catch my breath.

“Apparently, I have a thing for smacking into your statuesque body,” I mumble against his sweater.

“Statuesque?” His breath ruffles my hair.

I glance up at him now. “You know—tall, hard…imposing.”

The look on his face is a mixture of humor and pure mischief. “If that’s what does it for you, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

I don’t know exactly when our roles reversed in this…whatever you would call what we are, but I used to be the one making him flustered, not the other way around. This simply will not do.

I trail my finger down through the valley of his chest, hook it through his belt loop, and tug. “I thought we were gonna dance, twinkle toes.”

Hendrix’s eyes darken as they drop down to my index finger. They linger there a beat longer than necessary, and my smile grows exponentially wider. When he looks up and sees my expression, he snorts and grabs my wandering hand.

“How about we put your hands up here?” he says as he places both of my hands around his neck.

I immediately thread my fingers through the strands at the nape of his neck, giving them a little tug, and the groan that escapes his mouth unwillingly is so delicious, I feel it deep in my core. We’re playing with fire here, and I don’t think either of us care if we get burned.

“You’re trouble,” he groans.

“Don’t call me by my government name.” My smile is positively wicked, and he retaliates by slowly sliding one of his large palms from the small of my waist up to press between my shoulder blades, fingering the ends of my hair like I did his.

But my attention is quickly diverted by his other hand settling so low on my back, the tips of his fingers skim the top of my ass, digging in possessively.

Hendrix wastes no time tightening his hold on me, connecting our bodies with one firm push of his hand into my back. I gasp at the sudden proximity. Heat tingles up my spine from the delicious friction as he leads us in a gentle sway to the music.

Between rows of romance books and the culmination of weeks’ worth of our hard work and twenty questions, Hendrix starts to sing along with the song, low and hypnotic. He’s not particularly good, but I think that makes this moment even more perfect.

“–and the edges of your soul I haven’t seen yet,” he croons in my ear, low and gravely. It would have made my knees buckle if he hadn’t been keeping such a firm hold on me as he sways us back and forth.

We’re suspended in a moment of what I can only describe as peace, my face buried in his collarbone, his hovering just above my ear, breathing the lyrics into my soul, infusing his unspoken promises into every atom of my body.

Out of nowhere, the song kicks up, and Hendrix wastes no time guiding us along the uptick in melody, as if he anticipated it.

Suddenly, we’re flying through the room, dancing throughout the stacks and tables piled high with books, my right hand now in his as he dodges tables and industrial dryers left and right, spinning me under his arm as I laugh, wild and free.

He brings us back to where we started when the song slows back to its original rhythm and settles us back into a gentle sway.

I stare up at him in wonder, both of us panting through smiles as our heart rates begin to slow. I nuzzle closer into him as the song ends, and neither of us pull away. His hand strokes the back of mine as he leans down and brushes a kiss under my ear that sends goosebumps prickling over my skin.

A soft moan escapes from my lips as I bring myself impossibly closer to him, trying to burrow myself into his skin, begging for more.

I stretch up onto my toes, and he angles his body down until our noses touch, a moment of vulnerability before we dive into the deep.

He searches my eyes, asking without words, and I nod my head in assent, begging him to give us what we both want, what we need .

This connection between us sparking like a live wire.

If I think he’ll give into the desire we’re both feeling like a blazing inferno, I’m wrong.

He brings his lips back down to my ear, tracing a path down my neck, slow and languorous like a drop of honey out of a bottle.

I breathe out a sigh, angling my neck to give him better access.

He smiles against my skin before softly biting down, making us both groan.

Hendrix snakes his tongue up my throat to my mouth, settling his lips against mine in the sweetest connection.

I twist my arms up and around his neck once more, bringing his face to mine as he settles his palms on the top of my skirt over my hips, pushing me backward into the wall of books behind us.

The shelf bites into the middle of my back, but I can’t find it in me to care as Hendrix devours me.

He licks into my mouth, the stubble on his chin scraping my face, making me wonder what it would feel like between my legs.

The thought alone has me clenching my thighs together.

“More,” I pant into his mouth. “I need more of you.” I grip at his belt, but he stops my hand and pulls back an inch. Just as I think he’s about to put the kibosh on this whole thing, he slowly sinks to his knees, and my brain short circuits. My day is about to get so much better.

“Why do you look stunned?” He chuckles, face inches away from where he’s about to find me embarrassingly wet for him. “Are you nervous, baby?”

I muster up as much bravado as possible. “I’m simply admiring the view.”

“I’ll give you anything you want, Silver. All you have to do is say the word.” His palms skate up each leg over my sheer tights, his warmth searing me like a brand. “Do you want to come on my hand or on my tongue?”

I nearly choke. I’ve imagined this very scenario, but in my wildest fantasies, I never imagined Hendrix to be quite so sure and assertive.

I’m used to having to direct men in the bedroom if I wanted to get off, but something tells me that won’t be the case here.

Hendrix will know exactly how to handle me.

“Both.” I score my hand through his dark locks.

His eyes darken as he reaches under my skirt for the banding of my tights. His fingers slip inside as he looks up at me, waiting. It takes me a second to realize he’s asking for consent. “Yes,” I whisper, desperate for him to continue.

He grips the edges of the nylon and slowly peels them down, exposing my thighs to the air. I kick out of my shoes and tights as he reaches for the side zipper of my skirt, and next thing I know, I’m standing in my underwear.

Hendrix sits back on his heels, breathing deeply as he takes me in, rubbing his hand back and forth over the stubble I want to feel scraping against my thighs.

“Fuck,” he grits out. “I’ve been dreaming about these little scraps of lace you call underwear since that first day I came to your apartment.

It’s sick how much I’ve thought about it.

” He reaches out and runs his finger under the thin band of my pink lace thong.

“ Do you always wear things like this under all your colorful outfits?” He pulls the band back, snapping it onto my skin.

I shiver at his touch and the focus he has zeroed in at my center. “Pretty much,” I say, shifting back and forth to help relieve some of the tension between my thighs.

The movement doesn’t go unnoticed. “Didn’t I tell you to be patient?” He tuts, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh, making me whimper.

“You’re evil,” I pant, heart pounding.

He places more soft kisses, intermixed with teasing bites to my thighs, ratcheting my anticipation higher and higher. “You won’t be saying that in a few minutes.”

“I’ll get you back for this.”

“I’m looking forward to that.” The pure male arrogance in his voice is so arousing, I could slap myself for being so turned on.

“But until then, I want to take my time. You don’t go to a Michelin starred restaurant and not savor every bite, do you?

” He sinks his teeth into my hip bone, hands cupping the back of my thighs.

“Now be quiet and let me eat. The next sound out of your mouth better be my name or a moan.”

Oh God. Where did he come from?

Slowly, so slowly I might scream, Hendrix pulls my underwear to the side and sees the evidence of my arousal practically dripping down my legs.

“Fuck.” He parts me with his thumb, sliding the digit back and forth through my folds as a groan tears out of my throat. He pulls his finger out and sucks it into his mouth, moaning in pleasure. My eyes nearly cross at the filthy view. “Delicious.”

I think I might die from the euphoria.

Hendrix grasps one of my thighs, placing it over his shoulder, then shocks the hell out of me by doing the same with my other thigh until I’m hovering in the air, his face inches away from my core.

“Perch that gorgeous ass on the shelf for me, Sunshine.”

I look behind me at the recently renovated shelf and back to Hendrix. “What if I break it?” I whisper, as if anyone else could hear me.

He smirks a devil’s grin at me. “Then I’ll fix it. It’s kinda my thing, you know.”

“You’re insufferable like this,” I complain with no real conviction as I obey his order and settle my ass gently on the shelf, a leg on each shoulder anchoring me.