Page 66 of The Diamond in the Rough

It was the same reason I read: to push everything and everyone else out.

I liked that he read the same way. That he allowed himself to read that way, lost in the book, rather than stuck on the words or trapped by the thoughts and worries of the day.

It made me like him more.

And that was a very dangerous thing.

The sun wasout this time, although a brisk wind blew throughmy hair and rustled the branches of the massive weeping willow that sometimes stood along the banks of the dream river.

I didn’t see Raj at first, my eyes dazzled by the bright sunlight and obscured by the too-long strands of hair that kept getting blown in front of my eyes. He was crouched down at the river’s edge, looking into the water. I stopped where I was, waiting to see what he would do.

“You’re not that quiet,” he called back without bothering to look over his shoulder.

I froze, even though I hadn’t actually been moving very much.

“You don’t have to stay over there,” he said next, and then he did turn to look at me over his shoulder, although he didn’t stand.

I swallowed, feeling both trapped and pulled by his gold-brown gaze. Almost against my own will—which was ridiculous, since this was my dream—I walked towards him, stopping just behind him so that I was looking down at him.

There was a half-smile on his lips as he looked up at me. “I know the sound of your footsteps,” he told me.

“How?” I asked. I knew shifters had better hearing than humans did, but I didn’t understand how my footsteps sounded much different from most people’s. I’d understand if I had a limp or was a particularly heavy walker, but I didn’t think I was.

The smile on Raj’s face grew. “You scuff one foot very slightly,” he replied, finally standing and looking down at me. “Just the littlest bit.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “I do?”

“Mmhmm.” His smile was almost sly, a dimple forming on one cheek, but not showing any teeth. “It’s… endearing.”

I don’t think anybody had ever said that anything I’d ever done was ‘endearing,’ and I had no idea what to say to that.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked me.

I shook my head. He’d kissed me, the last time I trespassed onhis dream, so I had the feeling he at least thought I was physically attractive. Or attractive enough, anyway. That he didn’t dislike me.

He let out a soft, low growling sound, but it wasn’t threatening. It was a little… thrilling. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured, bringing up a finger and tracing it along the bridge of my nose.

I didn’t know what to say to that, either.

“Can’t stop imagining what your skin feels like,” he continued, his finger running along a cheek bone, then down toward my jaw. “What your skin smells like,” he stepped closer, breathing deeply. “What your skin tastes like,” he murmured, even closer.

I shivered.

“Tell me you want me to,” he breathed.

“I do,” I whispered.

He cupped my jaw with his hand, tilting my face up. I looked up at him, desperately wanting him to do what he was clearly about to do.

I shouldn’t let him kiss me again. I’d been wrong to let him do it the last time.

I let him kiss me again.

His lips were soft. Mouth warm. Hands a little rough, but gentle as he held my head in place while his lips teased at mine, encouraging me to open them.

I did.

And then hereallykissed me.