Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1) by Isabelle Hemlock Page B
Authors: Isabelle Hemlock
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deep relieved
sigh, when he says he missed me, too.
We’re interrupted when a waitress comes over to take our
order, but we just ask for hot chocolate, seeing as we both kind of feel like
talking, and for now food would just get in the way. When she taps her
pencil against the pad, I get the sense she’s grateful that she’s not being
bombarded with orders, since the day has barely begun for most people. In
fact, most of the diner is empty, just a few stragglers coming off a night
shift, and seeking some warm food before crawling back into bed.
I wish I was crawling into bed
with Avery.
Suddenly, I feel his fingers grazing over mine. The
soft fingertips, circling my knuckles, and I look up at him, feeling the slight
flush coating my usual pale skin (well, pale for Georgia), “Part of me wants to sit here all day, and learn every little thing
about you . . . “
He smirks a little, and tilts his head back at me, “And the other part?”
I lean in, just enough to lower my voice, in case the
waitress manages to sneak up on me while I’m distracted, “The other part of me wants to rip your clothes off right now.”
It’s his turn to blush, and he pulls his hands back away
from me, dropping them into his lap. I want to argue that that’s the opposite
of what I intended, that I want us touching each other in any way I can get -
but then I realize he’s fighting the urge, too, because he’s rubbing his hands
against his knees. As if he’s trying to distract himself. I really
like the idea of being able to have this sort of effect on him, and I reach
under the table, to take his hands right back, “Do you want me to?”
He nods his head a little, before finally looking back at
me, “I’m just - I’m pretty nervous about
loosing control with you. I’m not used to not being in control.” He starts looking down, then over, “Well actually that’s not true. More
like, I’m constantly trying to be in control.”
I chuckle, and Avery doesn’t seem to be sure why, so I
explain quickly, so he’s not lingering with any self doubt, “Hey, if you want to control anything, how
about we book ourselves a room two blocks over, and I’ll let you pick which
article of clothing I’ll remove first for you.”
I shouldn’t be so bold. Everything that I know about males, is that they like to be in control, and admire
the meek little women who doesn’t seem to know left from right. Not
everyone is like that, sure, but Avery seems so far apart from any stereotype,
that I feel utterly comfortable leading here. Besides, something tells me
that if I let him take the lead, we’ll be moving at a snail’s pace. And I
want to hurry up and wrap my legs around his waist pronto.
He hasn’t said anything, but I catch the twitch in his jawline . The one where he bites the
inside of his cheek, in order to stop himself from saying anything. But his racing heart is giving it away. The way his cheeks blush,
the way his breath seems to quicken. He wants to.
“Here ya go. Y’all enjoy it - stay warm,” the waitress
puts the two cups between us, seemingly unaware of how close we were to leaving
and heading out. I practically want to curse under my breath, because I’m
certain I was about to have the man actually agree to a hotel room any moment
now. She whips out the check, and leaves as quickly as she came.
Avery and I just look at each other. Then laugh.
“Or maybe we can
just drink out hot chocolate for now ?, ” he says it
so affirmatively, that I barely catch the question in the tone. He’d like
to just sit here with me for now, and if that’s what he truly wants, then I’ll
stay put. But before this day is over, I’m pinning this man underneath
me.
Chapter.
11 – Avery
I keep telling myself that this is the right way to go
about things. Talk to one another first,
sigh, when he says he missed me, too.
We’re interrupted when a waitress comes over to take our
order, but we just ask for hot chocolate, seeing as we both kind of feel like
talking, and for now food would just get in the way. When she taps her
pencil against the pad, I get the sense she’s grateful that she’s not being
bombarded with orders, since the day has barely begun for most people. In
fact, most of the diner is empty, just a few stragglers coming off a night
shift, and seeking some warm food before crawling back into bed.
I wish I was crawling into bed
with Avery.
Suddenly, I feel his fingers grazing over mine. The
soft fingertips, circling my knuckles, and I look up at him, feeling the slight
flush coating my usual pale skin (well, pale for Georgia), “Part of me wants to sit here all day, and learn every little thing
about you . . . “
He smirks a little, and tilts his head back at me, “And the other part?”
I lean in, just enough to lower my voice, in case the
waitress manages to sneak up on me while I’m distracted, “The other part of me wants to rip your clothes off right now.”
It’s his turn to blush, and he pulls his hands back away
from me, dropping them into his lap. I want to argue that that’s the opposite
of what I intended, that I want us touching each other in any way I can get -
but then I realize he’s fighting the urge, too, because he’s rubbing his hands
against his knees. As if he’s trying to distract himself. I really
like the idea of being able to have this sort of effect on him, and I reach
under the table, to take his hands right back, “Do you want me to?”
He nods his head a little, before finally looking back at
me, “I’m just - I’m pretty nervous about
loosing control with you. I’m not used to not being in control.” He starts looking down, then over, “Well actually that’s not true. More
like, I’m constantly trying to be in control.”
I chuckle, and Avery doesn’t seem to be sure why, so I
explain quickly, so he’s not lingering with any self doubt, “Hey, if you want to control anything, how
about we book ourselves a room two blocks over, and I’ll let you pick which
article of clothing I’ll remove first for you.”
I shouldn’t be so bold. Everything that I know about males, is that they like to be in control, and admire
the meek little women who doesn’t seem to know left from right. Not
everyone is like that, sure, but Avery seems so far apart from any stereotype,
that I feel utterly comfortable leading here. Besides, something tells me
that if I let him take the lead, we’ll be moving at a snail’s pace. And I
want to hurry up and wrap my legs around his waist pronto.
He hasn’t said anything, but I catch the twitch in his jawline . The one where he bites the
inside of his cheek, in order to stop himself from saying anything. But his racing heart is giving it away. The way his cheeks blush,
the way his breath seems to quicken. He wants to.
“Here ya go. Y’all enjoy it - stay warm,” the waitress
puts the two cups between us, seemingly unaware of how close we were to leaving
and heading out. I practically want to curse under my breath, because I’m
certain I was about to have the man actually agree to a hotel room any moment
now. She whips out the check, and leaves as quickly as she came.
Avery and I just look at each other. Then laugh.
“Or maybe we can
just drink out hot chocolate for now ?, ” he says it
so affirmatively, that I barely catch the question in the tone. He’d like
to just sit here with me for now, and if that’s what he truly wants, then I’ll
stay put. But before this day is over, I’m pinning this man underneath
me.
Chapter.
11 – Avery
I keep telling myself that this is the right way to go
about things. Talk to one another first,
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