Page 65 of Kane

“Of course.” His voice evens, that low growl just on the edge of his tongue. But he speaks lower, whispering so only I can hear him.

“You can always be honest with me. I would prefer that.”

I scoot closer to him, ignoring the taxi driver, because if I think about the fact we have an audience, I’ll freak out and probably change my mind.

And though I’ve never been much of a suave guy in general, and I don’t have the best track record at being seductive outside of a pre-planned script, Kane makes me feel a little braver.

Like I really can trust him with the most intimate parts of me. Like all I have to do is just ask for it, and he’ll give me everything I’ve ever wanted.

I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Ever.

And it doesn’t make any sense. We barely know each other. But it feels like he’s owned a part of my soul, some missing piece, forever and I didn’t know it until I found him.

“I like you a lot,” I say carefully. “Like… a lot a lot.”

Kane’s smile is soft, almost a ghost in and of itself.

“Is that so?”

I nod as I bring my face closer to his. I wait for him to move away. To tell me to wait.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he parts his perfect lips and leans in just an inch towards me, his gaze meeting mine.

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, and then I swallow my nerves, knowing I’m probably going to regret this, but I’ll also regret it if I don’t say it, so I’m screwed either way.

“Will you tell me the truth if I ask you something?”

Kane looks like he’s contemplating his answer, and I think maybe he’s going to tell me I need to cool it. That I’m coming on too strong, and maybe I am.

But I’ve never wanted something, someone this bad before. And though the thought of taking charge and kissing him right now is overwhelming, it’s also a little nerve-wrecking. I don’t want to fuck this up and I am trying to behave. I’m trying to wait.

But I don’t want to wait for something that doesn’t feel the same way, and though I think Kane feels the same way I do, I won’t know unless I ask him.

Kane nods. “Of course.”

I let out a low breath. Well, here goes nothing, I guess. It’s now or never.

Only when I speak, it’s not a question like I mean it to be. It’s a statement.

An undeniable truth.

“I think you like me, too.” I swallow. “A lot a lot.”

I stare into his dark green eyes, searching them for a truth that can’t be spoken. And then I feel his fingers; that gentle, yet firm touch as the pads of his fingertips trace my neck. His thumb presses against my jaw and he tilts my head up with the slightest force, and suddenly I realize I’ve shrunk. My body is all noodle limbs and Jell-O. I crumble beneath his touch.

My body submits without conscious thought, like it was made for it.

Made for him.

“And what would ever give you that idea, Ryder?” His voice is low, smooth.

It burns in my chest and on my skin like whiskey, and I realize I am not waiting for him to kiss me.

He’s waiting for me to kiss him.

“I don’t know. Call it a hunch,” I say, as I close the distance between us and give him what he wants.

Because I want it, too.