Thin Love(31)
Somewhere in their brief discussion, Keira noticed her fingers had moved from his temples to his thick hair. It happened absently, without her thinking about it, without his complaints. It took several moments before Keira realized they were staring at each other. There wasn’t anything significant in that moment, no weighted energy passing between them. There was only comfort and casualness and the curious thoughts they kept to themselves.
“Maybe Arthur’s love was too thick,” Kona said. “Or maybe Guinevere’s was. She was into them both—Arthur and Lancelot. Maybe she loved them both too much.”
“No, I don’t believe Guinevere loved either of them. With Arthur, it was power. With Lancelot it was lust. Both are thin love.”
“And thin love is bad?”
“That’s what Sethe tells Paul D, remember?”
Kona nodded, eyes shifted away from her face as he seemed held up by his own thoughts. “’Thin love ain’t love at all.’”
“Exactly.”
Kona’s gaze moved back to Keira, but he didn’t speak. The look he gave her expanded in the quiet of her room, stirred by his eyes growing darker, by the slow, constant rake of her fingers through his hair. He lifted his hand, stopping her fingers and held onto her wrist, eyes unblinking. Then something happened in that brief pause. The look they shared sharpened and the pull between them rose.
Kona sat up, slow, cautious and Keira watched him, watched unable to react, to respond, until Kona leaned toward her, until she could smell the drugging scent of his skin and feel the soft outline of his mouth. It was the pause of everything, a kindling of heat that Keira did not know how to contain—Kona’s soft lips against hers, his airy breath moving behind the hint of tongue—at once Keira felt drugged, controlled and manic.
Keira’s mouth worked against her will, a reaction, a gut feel of movement that she did not control and Kona seemed to love it, pulled her closer, guided her hands around his waist, up to that massive chest and Keira did not stop him.
She loved the sound of his throat vibrating, those low, delicious growls he made when her tongue touched his, when her mouth moved faster, harder. Before she realized what was happening, Kona leaned over her, had her caged against the pillows. Behind her closed eyes, Keira allowed only the sensations of touch and taste to filter into her mind and she knew, unconsciously, absolutely, that she wanted Kona Hale. She wanted his hands on her back, lowering; his mouth, tongue, down her neck nibbling. All that sensation, the fiery spark of their bodies connecting consumed her, made her feel drunk, wanted, beautiful. Cherished.
The sensation was overwhelming, consuming and Keira found she could not breathe, could not keep hold of her senses—the protective instinct to run from the sudden terror she felt.
She scrambled to her feet, stepping several paces away from Kona. “What are you doing?”
“Keira, if you don’t know—I mean, I get it, I do. You’re not used to attention, from guys. I get that.”
That’s what he thinks? That’s why he wants me?
She saw the hint of it in his eyes, that hungry scrutiny that told her it was the challenge to take her that had him wanting a taste of her. She felt like she had been doused with a bucket of ice water. She understood now. She got Kona’s interest in her and despite how disgusted it made her feel, Keira laughed.
“You think I’m a virgin, Kona?” When he only managed to look away from her, jaw clenching, Keira’s laughter grew, bubbled so that the sound was obnoxious and loud. “I might get nervous around guys, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been with anyone. And why are you changing the subject? You kissed me.” Keira chose to ignore the part where she had responded eagerly to his kiss. With Keira’s admission and her accusation, the large vein on Kona’s neck that stuck out when his temper flared was pumping against his dark skin like a drumbeat. “I told you this wasn’t a date.”
“I know that.”
“Then why did you kiss me?”
With one large hand rubbing the back of his neck, Kona made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Shit, Keira, there was a moment. Don’t pretend like you didn’t feel it. You did kiss me back. And don’t act like you didn’t feel it that night you were mugged.” He walked toward her and Keira found the room had grown smaller, that somehow she’d forgotten how large Kona was, how much space he took up. “There’s something going on between us and it’s got nothing to do with Legends or old musicals.” Kona stood in front of her and Keira wasn’t sure how she’d ended up with her back against the door and him looming over her, staring down at her like he was hungry, like he was hungry only for her.