She laughed, the sound light and musical. "Then I should confess sothing."
"Should I be worried?"
"Maybe." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day. Since training."
Now it was my turn to be surprised. "Oh?"
"Mhmm." She moved closer, her thigh pressing against mine. "Seeing you fly through the air like that, all powerful and in control..." She bit her lip. "It was hot."
Jesus Christ. Who was this bold creature and what had she done with my shy Naomi?
"Is that so?" I leaned in, my voice dropping. "And what else have you been thinking about?"
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t back down. "Things that aren’t appropriate for a public picnic."
My body responded imdiately to her tone, to the promise in her eyes.
"We could always take this sowhere more private," I suggested, running my thumb along her wrist.
She glanced around at the crowded quad. "We just sat down to eat."
"We can bring the food."
She laughed. "You’re incorrigible."
"I don’t know what that ans, but if it ans I want to get you alone, then yes, guilty as charged."
Naomi shook her head, but her smile gave her away. "Let’s at least finish lunch. I spent actual ti on this, you know."
"Fine." I sighed dramatically, reaching for another sandwich. "But just so you know, you’ve now got thinking inappropriate thoughts too."
"Good." She took a delicate bite of her pasta salad. "That was the point."
I nearly choked. This new, confident Naomi was going to be the death of . And what a way to go.
We finished eating, talking about everything and nothing—classes, her brothers’ latest antics, Jordan’s apparent narcolepsy. It felt normal. Nice. Like we were just two college kids on a date, not a milk vampire and his willing donor planning our next session.
As we packed up the remains of our picnic, Naomi checked her phone.
"Jordan’s asking if we want to hang out."
I raised an eyebrow. "What did you tell him?"
"That we’re busy." Her eyes t mine. "Are we busy?"
The way she said it sent heat straight through .
"Very," I replied, standing and offering her my hand. "Where to?"
She took my hand, allowing to pull her up. "Your place?"
I hesitated. "Hikaru might be there."
"My place then." She squeezed my hand. "My roommate’s away for the weekend. Visiting family."
Well. That solved that problem.
We walked across campus, hands entwined, the picnic basket swinging between us. I could feel eyes on us—the lottery kid and the girl with pink hair who’d sohow cracked the top hundred rankings. An unlikely pair.
If they only knew.
The mont her door closed behind us, the atmosphere changed. The air felt charged, electric with anticipation.
Her room was exactly what I’d expected—neat and organized, with touches of personality. Photos of her family pinned to a corkboard. Books arranged by color on a small shelf. A blue quilt on her bed that looked hand-made.
"It’s not much," she said, suddenly shy again.
"It’s perfect." I set the picnic basket down on her desk. "It’s you."
She smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear in that way she did when she was nervous. "Do you want sothing to drink? I have water, or—"
I crossed the room in two steps and kissed her. Not gently this ti. Her surprise lasted only a second before she lted into , her arms winding around my neck.
When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
"Sorry," I said, not sorry at all. "I’ve been wanting to do that properly since the picnic."
"Don’t apologize." Her voice was breathless. "I’ve been waiting for you to do it."
That was all the invitation I needed. I kissed her again, deeper this ti, backing her toward the bed. Her knees hit the edge and she sat, looking up at with those wide blue eyes.
"I wasn’t kidding before," she said softly. "About thinking about you. About us."
I knelt in front of her, my hands on her knees. "Tell ."
Her cheeks flushed. "I can’t just say it."
"Then show ."
Sothing flashed in her eyes—determination, maybe. She took my hand and placed it on the hem of her dress, just above her knee.
"When I saw you this morning," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "using your ability like that, so powerful and in control... I imagined what it would be like if you used that control on ."
My mouth went dry. "Keep talking."
She guided my hand higher, under her dress. "I thought about your hands. How they would feel." Higher still. "How you could make feel."
My fingers brushed against cotton underwear, and she gasped softly.
"And how did you imagine I would make you feel?" I asked, my voice rough.
Her answer was to press my hand more firmly against her. Even through the fabric, I could feel her heat, her dampness.
"Like this," she whispered.
I leaned up to kiss her again, my hand still between her thighs, barely moving. Teasing her. Her breath hitched as my fingers traced patterns over the cotton.
"More?" I asked against her lips.
"Please."
I shifted the fabric aside and slipped a finger inside her. She was already wet, ready for . Her head fell back, exposing the pale column of her throat.
"Oh," she breathed, the sound so sweet it made my chest ache.
I added another finger, finding a rhythm that made her thighs tremble. With my other hand, I reached for the straps of her dress, sliding them down her shoulders.
The dress pooled at her waist, revealing a simple white bra that sohow looked sexier than any lingerie could have. I pressed kisses along her collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts.
"Jace," she gasped as I curved my fingers inside her, finding that spot that made her back arch.
"Tell what you want," I murmured against her skin.
"You," she said simply. "Just you."
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