Page 52 of Stolen Princess

“Does that mean you trust me?”

The shell is gone, and now it’s only the vanilla on her stick and she’s licking and sucking and yeah… Not only can I not stop watching her, but I’m also hard as fucking stone. Again. This girl has me on a hair trigger.

“Not even a little. Even if this might be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

“Oh, princess, it’s early yet.”

How brows scrunch. Once again, she’s adorably confused by my innuendo that’s falling flat. “Huh?”

“Nothing. Keep eating before it melts all over the car.”

I go back to my ice cream and force my fucking eyes back to the road.

“Thank you for this. It was such a nice treat after the morning I had.” Her mouth is coated in vanilla and chocolate, and she’s all smiles and wonderment, and she’s looking at me like I’m her hero. Like I’m not the villain she knows me to be.

Warmth spreads through me, and I lean over and lick the corner of her lips.

She jumps back, and so do I, my eyes now as wide and round as hers. Shit. “I…” Don’t know why I did that. I’ve never impulsively done anything, let alone licked a woman. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Because I didn’t.

I was thinking about what she said and wondering what the ice cream would taste like on her lips and…

“Pull over,” she demands, her tone insistent.

My head swivels between the road and her. “Why?”

“Because I asked you to.”

“Gen—”

“Do it, Rhys.”

Fuck. She’s either going to get out and bolt or punch me in the face.

I pull over to the breakdown lane and throw the car in park, but before I can turn to her, she rolls down the window, tosses both of our ice creams out, then grabs my face and kisses me.

17

GENEVIEVE

Ihold Rhys against me and press my lips to his. I have no clue what I’m doing, but I don’t exactly care much either. I ran away from home. Was attacked this morning and survived. I’m in a car driving toward the coast with a man I know very little about, other than he’s a thief and has killed people.

But he didn’t attack me when I made myself come for him—hell, he didn’t even touch me. He saved me by attacking the man who attacked me, then carried me back to our room, bandaged me up, and put ice on my face. Now he brings me frozen peas for my cuts and freaking ice cream for me to try.

Clearly I have no frame of reference, and I’m wildly out of my depth, but all those things don’t sound like someone who’s all bad. I mean, he’s not good. But… he’s good to me, whether he realizes it or not.

Rhys isn’t moving. He’s a statue of what the fuck is this woman doing. But screw it. I tilt my head and press myself firmer against him.

“Genevieve,” he murmurs against my lips, his tone imploring.

“Kiss me, Rhys. Please, kiss me. I know what this is. I’m not expecting romance or flowers or love. But I want passion. I want fireworks. Teach me how to kiss.” I lick the seam of his lips, and he grunts and grabs the fabric of my shirt at my shoulder, undecided if he’s going to haul me in or push me away with it. I open my eyes, and he’s right there, staring at me with an intensity I feel deep in my core.

“Teach you?” He groans and pulls back, layering his lips with mine, keeping them a breath apart. “This is a mistake. You shouldn’t be kissing me.”

That frustrates me to no end, and I grip him tighter, even if I’m no longer forcing his lips to mine. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, and what if this is my only chance? What if I go back home and that’s it?”

I can’t do that. I can’t live like that. But I also have a feeling the choice might not entirely be mine. There will be a reckoning with my mother, and I don’t know how that will go. I also don’t know how to live out here, so there’s that element too.