19. Nick
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NICK
She’s a demon.
That’s the only explanation for the succubus-esque level of temptation she exudes.
I’ve blindfolded her to keep the location of our dessert secret, making her take slower, more careful steps.
It only accentuates the swing of her flared hips in that goddamn red dress.
It’s taking everything in me not to lead her home and do every single thing I’ve ever imagined doing to my mate.
Blindfold included.
She’s a demon, and despite knowing never to make a deal with one, I’d do just about anything she wanted right now, just to get one taste of her.
One moment of my hands on something other than her shoulders.
“Are we there yet?” she asks, fingers twitching at her sides.
My fingers flex on her shoulders as I direct her to the left. “Almost, petite copine. Almost.”
She shivers at the nickname but doesn’t ask again what it means. Just trusts me to tell her when I’m ready.
“We’re here,” I whisper after a few more moments of tension-filled silence. Taking the blindfold from her eyes, I step in front to open the door and watch her reaction.
Georgie covered the inside of Tea Leaves in twinkling lights. Soft music plays from the speakers. A soft, lacy white tablecloth sits on a table specially brought out from the back with a vase of flowers in the middle and a custom cake. Rose petals cover the floor.
And I can’t see any of it. I only see Isabella as she twirls in a circle, eyes eating up every piece of the bakery with a joyous hunger. She stops after two spins, meeting my adoring gaze.
“You did all this?” she asks softly, disbelief heavy in her voice as if she can’t comprehend that someone would want to do this for her.
As if she doesn’t deserve so much more than this—this right here is the bare fucking minimum. I’ve got an idea now of what her parents put her through, and if given the opportunity, I’m going to make sure she gets used to this kind of treatment.
That she forgets all about how ‘not enough’ her parents made her feel.
“Georgie helped, but yeah.” I take her hands, slightly cold from our walk. “I would’ve done more, but I only had a couple of hours.”
“More?” she huffs out a half-laugh. “I don’t know if I could take more.”
“You will.” Images of exactly how much more she’ll be taking flit across my mind. How good she’s going to look spread across my sheets one day.
Her cheeks flush a brilliant pink, as if reading my mind. Could she be? Who knows how our bond could manifest? She frees her hand from mine to cup my chin, guiding my face toward hers.
“Thank you,” she says, lips brushing against my cheek, before pulling back.
My hands itch to grab her once more, pull her flush to me, and finally taste the plush sweetness of her mouth. But no. Not yet.
I’m going to let her squirm in anticipation.
I watch her as she walks to the lacy tablecloth-covered table with our cake. Watch her finger swipe through the chocolate frosting and pop it into her mouth.
“How does it taste?” I ask, crowding her against the table, salivating over the way her lips look wrapped around that goddamn finger. She’s flipped the script on me. I’m the one squirming at just that single action.
She shrugs one shoulder. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
“I’m waiting,” I growl, the noise ripping straight from the center of my chest. My instincts are close to the surface, my desires hard to hold back.
If she’s scared, she doesn’t show it. Her mouth lifts to one side in the sexiest smirk I’ve ever seen. “What? No ‘please’?”
A demon.
“Isabella Gregory,” I rumble. “Will you please get me some frosting so I can taste it on your skin?”
Her cinnamon vanilla scent melts into full desire as her eyelids lower. Pupils dilate. Breathing picks up. “Yes, boss.”
She repeats her earlier motion, dragging her index finger through the frosting—only this time, she brings it just before my lips.
I gently grasp Izzy’s wrist, lifting her hand and sucking her finger into my mouth. Sure, the icing tastes good, but it’s her taste that explodes on my tongue. Her skin that I savor.
The taste of forever.
A small whimper escapes her as my gaze locks onto hers. I don’t need a mirror to know that my eyes flash with desire. Maybe even brighten a little this close to the full moon. Leisurely, I suck the last of the sugar off.
“Delicious,” I murmur, giving the very tip of her finger a nibble as I pull away.
“Nick…” My name drops from her mouth like sugary soft sin, but the slight waver makes me pause. “Nick, what are we doing?”
I don’t want to scare her, but the vulnerability—the raw fear—in her gaze tells me she needs some sort of reassurance.
I push her brown waves behind her ear, settling my hand on the back of her neck. “I meant it when I said I’ve never met someone like you. I can’t imagine a world in which I let you leave this town without finding out what’s between us.”
Her exhale is heavy, but she melts into my touch anyway. “Are you sure? This isn’t just fun with no strings attached?”
“Hey.” I wait until she makes eye contact once more.
“I know you don’t know me as well as you will one day.
But I say what I mean, and I mean what I say.
I’m too goddamn old for games. When I tell you I want to explore this with you, and that I want you, I’m not fucking around.
I’m not saying whatever I can to get you into bed. I promise.”
She gnaws on her bottom lip regardless. “This is far too serious for a first date. In fact…”
She trails off, turning from me so I can’t see what she’s doing. I’m about to argue that we can discuss whatever the hell she wants so long as she just keeps talking to me, when I’m met with a face full of chocolate cake.
Chocolate crumbs fill my mouth and nose, but it’s the giggles filling my ears that make a smile form under all the frosting.
My canines elongate as I smile at her. “Oh, Izzy.” Goosebumps rise on her skin. “You’ve done it now.”