Psy & Changelings 11 - Tangle of Need

threatened to make her fall so deep, she’d never recover.
    Reaching her, he glanced at the engine piece, angled his head in a silent question.
    “It’s a hobby,” she said, sliding the piece and her miniature tool set into a pocket of her buff-colored cargos, feeling oddly shy. As if this were their first date and he’d caught her playing like a child. “A puzzle to solve.”
    Placing the brown paper bag in his hand on the boulder, he reached into his own pocket to pull out a small, polished wooden carving of a leopard mid-prowl. “My hobby,” he said, standing the leopard on her palm. “It’s not finished.”
    Astonished and charmed, she ran her finger along the back of the incredibly lifelike animal. “When do you do this?” She was fascinated. “I’ve never seen you.”
    “Here and there, when I’m thinking.”
    “Can I have it?”
    A glint of gold in the pale brown, the wolf’s delight. “When it’s done.” Plucking it from her fingers, he slipped it back into his pocket. “Show me what you were doing with the part.”
    Retrieving it, she explained, while he stood between her parted knees, one of his hands on her thigh, his hair shining blue-black in the sunlight. It was a subtle intimacy, and it wrapped her in silken chains—she had to concentrate to get the words out, wasn’t sure she breathed until he said, “That looks like fun,” in an intrigued tone. “I want to take one apart with you.”
    A laugh bubbled out of her. “Alright.”
    Stealing her laugh with a kiss that was pure hot, wet demand, he squeezed her thigh before reaching to get something from the bag he’d brought over. “Here.”
    It was a sandwich. “Chicken and avocado,” she murmured, another piece of the hard shell around her heart falling away. “My favorite.”
    “And your sugar and cream with a dash of coffee.” Placing the thermal cup and his bottle of water on the boulder, he took out his own sandwich.
    The sun warmed her shoulders as he turned to brace his back against the stone, her thighs on either side of his bigger, more muscular frame. When she pressed an impulsive kiss to his nape, he made a low, rumbling sound in his chest, a wolf pleased. All of her—body and soul—trembled in visceral response.
    Dangerous, she thought, this was so dangerous. Too many pieces of her in his hands. She had to hold something back, some part of her that would protect her against the nights she woke to find him lying awake, a faraway expression on his face. Because it would happen—no matter the passionate tenderness growing ever deeper between them, she was second best, would always be second best.
    The harsh truth of it bruised her heart. Putting down her mostlyuneaten sandwich, she rubbed her hand surreptitiously over the organ. She didn’t know if she was trying to quell the ache or contain the wild fury of what she felt for Riaz. But she had the sinking feeling it was too late. Perhaps it had been too late the instant her wolf first responded to him, the attraction visceral.
    Having finished his sandwich, he turned to grab his water, saw hers. “Eat the rest.”
    Already on edge, she bristled. “Since when do you get to give me orders?”
    Eyes of pale gold met hers, lashed by black silk. “Since I realized you have a tendency to not eat properly.” Picking up the sandwich, he held it out.
    She took it, placed it back down. “Don’t try to control me.”
    Riaz’s voice was a deep rumble. “I will not let my woman mistreat herself. Eat the sandwich or we’ll be here all day.”
    My woman.
    Her throat choked up, until she couldn’t speak, every part of her hotly conscious of the hand he’d placed once more on her thigh. A couple of inches higher and he could slide that big hand to cup her with the same intimacy he’d done last night, in the hushed dark of her bed. The rough heat of his body so close, the dusky bronze of his skin an invitation to her lips, it stole her mind, made it impossible to think.
    Pushing aside his hand, she brought her legs up to crouch on the boulder—then jumped off the other side. “Maybe I’ll eat the sandwich later”—her heartbeat punching into her throat—“if I feel like it.” This had nothing to do with the sandwich, they both knew that.
    Narrowed eyes. “You really want to challenge me over this?”
    His tone raised her wolf’s hackles … and shot adrenaline through her body. “You know, why don’t you eat it, since you seem to like it so much.”