Chapter 9
Indy
I’ve been chewing and stewing, that’s the only way to describe the words Toren threw in my lap at dinner.
I didn’t let it deter me from my meal. The food was too good and the company was hot.
We finished our dinner, talking about everything except his art and my job.
Toren even offered dessert, but I was so full after the appetizer, our dinner, and the three lemon drops I consumed.
My stomach is at max capacity for space, even with the loose dress I’m wearing.
“Thank you for dinner.” I look up at Toren. He’s beside me, the palm of his hand on my lower back, suspiciously where there isn’t any fabric. Not that it’d help in the least. Toren touching me in any sense of the way seems to light a fire to my senses.
“You’re welcome, cherry.” He doesn’t poke or prod about the deal he suggested, and I know it’s up to me to ask questions, which is what I’m going to do as soon as we’re out of the thick of being surrounded by others.
The night air presses close, warm and heavy, like a secret wrapping around you as we walk along the red brick sidewalk.
It still holds some of the heat from the day, radiating upward and through the thin soles of my shoes.
Overhead, there are strands of soft golden lights stretched between lamp posts, swaying slightly in the humid breeze, casting a gentle glow and making everything feel softer, slower—seemingly suspended in time.
“About the contingency you placed back at the restaurant. What all does it entail?” The cicadas hum in the distance, a steady rhythm beneath the hush of the evening. Toren’s fingers slide beneath my dress, the tips blazing a trail and stirring a hunger deep inside me.
“Want you with me while I create the work. Any business dealings, it’ll be you I talk to.
Not Miranda. Think you can feel we got something between us.
The last thing I want is for you to get on a plane and leave.
Also know you have work of your own. Haven’t figured out logistics, only know if you’re not part of the plan, Miranda is up shit creek without a paddle. ”
We stop walking, time stands still, and I’m having a hard time keeping up.
“Are you crazy?” There’s a word for this kind of thing: coercion, black mailing, or leveraging, but all of those sound crazy. Too strong of a word, especially when I’m thinking about giving in without hearing another word Toren has to say.
“I have been called that a time or two.” He cages me in.
How he moved us until my back is pressed against the side of a building, I have no idea.
He is close, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath and see the way his restraint is starting to unravel.
Every small movement is amplified. The shift of his thumb dips lower, and my chin tilts up as the air thickens with anticipation.
And neither of us speaks. We don’t need to. Because in the sultry summer air, we both know what I will do. I’ll take the proverbial bull by the horns and give this man everything we both want and need.
“What’s it going to be, Indy?” Toren’s head dips, his lips brushing along mine, his hips wedging between mine, and I’m once again wondering how I didn’t notice that he’s got me exactly where he wants me. Where I want him.
“How’s this going to work? You live here, your studio is here, your life is here, and mine is, well, mine is in Seattle.” This is the thought I didn’t want to verbalize all along. We’re starting something where there’s a chance it could end before it even began.
“Don’t have it all ironed out. All’s I know is I like being around you a whole hell of a lot.
Not one for uppity types. Figure that’s Miranda.
Got enough problems being blocked to add more drama to my plate.
You figure out when you need to be back in Seattle, then we’ll go from there.
” His fingers whisper along my jaw, barely a touch, but it lingers.
Heat sparks in his eyes, and he drifts closer.
My breathing hitches, and when he finally touches me, it’s deliberate this time.
And it’s electric.
His gaze drops to my lips briefly, then lifts again, slower this time, like he’s putting the ball in my court.
And I take it. I reach for him first, my fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him the last few inches closer.
Our kiss isn’t soft. It isn’t hesitant, either.
It’s the kind that’s been building all day, for far too long.
It’s real, it’s messy, and our restraint snaps.
He responds instantly. His hand slips deeper into my dress, cupping the cheek of my ass, forcing me to lift my leg up and around his waist. He seeks and I follow.
His tongue slips inside, wrapping around mine, and he gives me the kiss of a lifetime.
He moans into my mouth, not a groan or a grumble, but that toe-curling, deep-in-your bones, melt-your-soul moan.
He doesn’t slow down. Instead, he takes a quick breath, I do the same, and before I can blink my eyes, Toren is back, kissing me longer, harder, deeper, like he can’t get enough, as if he’s learned something and he’s soaking it up in all one swoop.
I match him, surprising myself with my own boldness, arching into him, wanting to be taken along for the ride of my life. When our kiss ends, he places his forehead on mine, our breaths mingle, and I’m trying to reduce my rapidly beating heart.
“That was most definitely not a mistake,” he says with a tilt of his lips.
“Definitely not, especially because you look like you want to do it again.” I lick my lips, coming away with Toren’s flavor and purring when doing so. His eyes darken, his nostrils flare, and his cock flexes against my aching core.
“You got that fucking right, but as much as I want to, it won’t be happening here where anyone can see what I’m doing to you, cherry.” His voice is deep and husky, giving away the way he’s feeling.
“I better get back anyway. I don’t want to turn into a pumpkin.” He takes a hesitant step back, pulling his hand away from my ass, but instead of leaving me completely, he settles it on my lower back and guides me back to the street to continue our walk.
“I doubt very seriously you’d turn into a pumpkin, Indy. But yeah, better get you back before this goes a hell of a lot further when you haven’t given me your answer.” I slide closer to his body, uncaring that the heat from the night air is swirling around us.
“You already know my answer without me coming out and saying the words, Toren.” We make it back to the bed and breakfast entirely too fast for my liking, and while I joked about turning into a pumpkin, it couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“Still need the words, cherry.” We’ve landed at the hood of his truck, parked right out front, and he once again has me caged in. I’m finding there are several sides of Toren Navarro, one of which is the dominant energy he brings to the table.
“Yes, I’m with you. This won’t be easy, and I don’t mean in terms of Miranda. The logistics of this could blow up in our faces.” His hands navigate to my hips, his grip tight enough to let me know he’s not letting go.
“And it could end up a thing of beauty, too. Now, gonna let you get inside, but if you get lonely in the middle of the night, cherry, call me.” He drops a kiss to my lips, this time holding himself back.
And all I can reply is a breathless, “Okay.”