The City of Crows by Bethany Lovejoy (great books to read .txt) 📕

an amazing artist and you’re secretly good at cooking,” I began, pointing my fork in his direction, the bit of French toast that was balanced on top of it falling back to the plate. “Are there any other superhuman traits you possess?” I joked, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Aside from being cursed,” I clarified before he could bring it up.

“I wouldn’t call this good cooking,” he said, not knowing that even the simplest recipe could impress me. Between scholarly research, grading theses, and holding office hours; french toast would have been a luxury in my house. I was lucky that Yvie was capable of cooking and sharing at the same time. “You know, I can’t remember a time where my mother didn’t make me help her cook. That’s why all of this take-out seems like a luxury.”

“Take-out is a luxury,” I admitted, “I lived off of microwave food before, but thanks to your savings from commissions, I think I’ve eaten at nearly every restaurant in the city.” I grinned, taking another bite of French toast and relishing in the way the cinnamon played on my tongue mixing with the thick, sweetness of maple syrup before stating, “If I ever become rich and famous, I’ll commission you to make French toast and nothing else.”

“A good use of my skills,” he said, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “Though, somehow I get the feeling that I’ll be making it for you for free.”

“It’s because you’re generous.”

“Too generous,” he said, pressing his sticky lips against my shoulder.

I laughed, swaying into his touch if only to quickly push his mouth away. I’d definitely need a shower if he kept it up. He leaned in once again, unswayed by my motions, his lips aiming for the space beside my mouth. I clenched my eyes shut, ready for the sensation when the quiet tinkling of my text tone hit the air once more.

He pulled back at the same time I jerked, his lips pressed into a thin line as I apologetically unlocked my phone and checked the messages. Rowan again, his text worded differently. Actually, I think we’ll see each other soon. My eyes narrowed, brows furrowing as I scooted to the edge of the couch, typing my response. Rowan was normally direct, vague messages never suited him, not in the long run.

“Everything okay?” Leo asked, leaning back on the couch. “Is there a problem, or...?”

“Yeah, it’s just my mom,” I was getting more fluent at lying. I hit the send button, flipping my phone over onto its face, knowing that, as it was Rowan, the response would take some time to come either way.

“Mhm,” he breathed, once again at my side. There was something different about how he moved then, how his lips just barely brushed over my skin but did not stop anywhere in particular. He was once against at my shoulder, my neck, and that delicate place inbetween; relishing the way heat pooled on my skin as he drew lines across it. He was exploring my reactions and memorizing them at the same time.

And I let him. I fell back against the couch with no effort on his part, relaxation claiming my body as he climbed over me. Hard teeth raked against me, moving lightly over my collarbone in a way that made my breath hitch, his mouth nipping just slightly at the area. Over and over again, I couldn’t help but think to myself about how nice it was, how different it was from Rowan’s mouth playing upon my skin, forcing reactions and taking whatever he wanted. With every motion, Leo asked for permission, allowing me to inch my body closer and closer to his as he explored.

Clad only in his old t-shirt with him dotting kisses across my exposed skin, I could picture an eternity like that. Close, but not close enough, always straddling the line. For some reason, that was more exciting than finality, than definitions and certainties. I think that’s what I liked about Leo, that I had to keep reaching these check points before I knew where to go next. Save Leo, what comes next? I didn’t need to know yet.

With Leo, everything was an adventure. His mouth upon my neck, his hand inching higher and higher on my inner thigh, the way that he reached and pulled my shoulder closer to him. Every sound, the soft squeaks and low moans that traveled across my body, only urged him forward. He was a selfless lover, one who lived only to give. God bless the selfless.

My skin tingled beneath his, my body sighing happily as his lips caressed mine, mint replaced by the sweetness of maple, his hand traveling to dangerous places in a way that made my back curl into him. Lips, first gentle then demanding, became but a haze in comparison to the sensation between my thighs. His fingers moved nimbly, mapping out the details. I could have stayed forever in that moment, teetering on the edge between the world and the symphonies of pleasure that were slowly building.

Good morning, Lyra, his body seemed to hum as my arms wrapped around his neck, desperately pressing him closer. His tongue pressed past my lips, catching my gasps and internalized exclamations.

Then, far too suddenly, he pulled away, teeth once against biting softly, this time just above my breasts as his hand slowly slid down my thigh. His head continued to travel, lower and lower. My eyes widened, hands tightening against the green velvet of his couch. Please, that’s what should have escaped my lips the second the offending fabric of my panties was pushed out of his way, lips bearing down on my sex. The slightest motion of his tongue and I was in bliss--

But of course, my phone went off once more.

I groaned, furiously picking up the phone, seeing Rowan’s name, and then slamming it back down. I didn’t need to see anything else from Rowan, not now. The tittering of birds that