Crow by Gadziala Jessica

Author:Gadziala, Jessica
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-25T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Morgaine

Damnit, Marnie.

Why did she have to mention the earrings?

I mean, objectively, Crow might have found out on his own. Especially since he figured out my social media handles.

But I guess I’d been hoping that his curiosity just got the better of him, and he would only look once, not keep checking for updates. And, eventually, the post about the crow earrings that I would be putting up soon would get lost in the mix if he ever decided to check in again in the future.

There was no way he was going to think it was just a coincidence now that Marnie let the cat out of the bag, though.

My mind was on that, on what he might be thinking, on what he might say.

Which was how I missed the fact that he’d gotten off the chair, moved away from the wheel, and walked up toward me.

I missed it, that is, until I felt his whole front press against my whole back as his arms went around me.

“What are you doing?”

I meant for that to come off a little annoyed, huffy, even. I was pretty sure I failed at that, though. Because it sounded airless to me.

I was that, of course. Airless. But I didn’t exactly want him to know that.

“Washing my hands,” he said, his face ruffling my hair as he spoke. That was how close he was.

Dangerously close.

I thought that, maybe, the time we’d spent apart after that whole front seat of the car scenario, my body wouldn’t react so immediately to him. So dramatically.

But judging by the way my pulse quickened and my chest felt tight and my breasts seemed heavy and my sex clenched hard, yeah, my body could practically sign up for a damn drama class, it was being so over the top.

It wasn’t just dramatics, though, just overreaction to a tame situation.

Oh, no.

Because Crow’s clay-covered hands moved down my bare forearms then closed over my hands.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, hearing the desperate edge to my voice.

“You’re holding the scrub brush,” he told me, reaching between my hands to grab it, then setting to scrub his hands with it while mine just stayed there, limply hanging in the air just out of the stream of water from the tap.

Done with his own hands, though, he grabbed one of mine, holding it with one hand as the other scrubbed over the back, my palm, down each finger and then between.

He was washing my damn hands.

But it might as well have been fucking foreplay with the way my body ignited.

I didn’t seem to have a shred of self-control left within me, either, because I just… leaned back into him as he reached for my other hand to continue the same process.

I didn’t care that Marnie was still milling around the shop, that we were within sight of any foot traffic passing by, that anyone could happen into the studio.

I just let myself lean into him, closing my eyes, and soaking up the moment.

Time felt like it slipped away, even if I objectively knew it was only a few minutes that we stood there.

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