He didn’t have a chance to answer her before she was pulling them together, her lips on his. Sparrow Peterson was no stranger to kissing, but he found it not quite an experience he enjoyed. It was just too… intimate. Familiar. Like he’d seen his parents do a thousand times and he hated them. Objectively, despising each and every one of their faults. The baldness Andrew tried to hide by shaving his head, the depression Katherine tried too hard to cover with busy work.
People who could love were kissers.
Sparrow broke the kiss, pulling back to give her a blank stare. “I think you want a little more than that, Big Blue,” he said. He put his left hand on her throat, squeezing just enough to give her an idea of what he meant by more, but not enough to constrict her air intake. Not yet.
His right hand slid down her stomach, stopping just above the waistband of her trousers. “Maybe a lot more.” His fingers caught in her waistband, making it clear exactly what his intentions were. And then, like they’d never been there at all, Sparrow’s hands were gone. “All you have to do is say the word.” The barrier here was not for her protection or comfort; Sparrow didn’t care. It was a show of good faith. And nothing more.