get away with it.” She didn’t look at him.
They collided as they both reached to turn off the oven. Sedona couldn’t move. He didn’t move. Her breath rushed wildly.
.
Chapter 4
How Do You Trap a Cherub?
“One kiss,” he murmur-tempted.
Her breaths escaped, wilder, softer.
“Sure. Maybe I’ll hate how you kiss.”
Only his lips touched her lips, his mouth tender demand. His kiss became such consuming softness, she surrendered, moaning as he deepened the kiss to incredible. To dreamy, to wild.
Tenderly he relinquished her mouth. Stepping back, he didn’t attempt to kiss her again.
Her cheeks flamed. “I can’t hate your kiss, can I?” She shoved away from the cabinet, her limbs tingling weakness. “Bowls,” she murmured, more breath than sound..
Volcano opened one of the top cabinet doors for her, and watched her select two of the large cereal bowls. Her lips had been more lush, more giving than he’d imagined, than he’d known a woman could offer a man.
His sexual being was savage to know more, but that would be a mistake. She would run from him emotionally and not stop. Always, his first duty was to protect her.
“These are heavenly,” she crooned, inhaling. “Nothing like the smell of real strawberries. It’s been years.” She set the bowls on the counter near the basket of strawberries. “Do cherubs hate?”
“Fierce like a warrior, yes. Hate, no. That’s a human emotion.” Volcano reached back for the sheet of shortcake.
“One to start?” Sedona slid the spatula beneath one.
“Two.” He grinned. As she put them in the bowls, he cut them in half. “I’ll slice the strawberries. Good with sharp implements,” he assured, his jovial nature asserting itself.
“Then you could fiercely dislike my kiss, but not hate how I kiss?” Sedona searched for a large stainless steel spoon and dessert spoons.
Volcano wondered if he was about to fall in a human woman’s trap. He would if he misspoke. Or, perhaps, if he said anything. And maybe, if he said nothing?
“Man trap?” he asked, slicing the juicy red fruit.
Sedona half-laughed. “Do you mean like a Marilyn Monroe movie?” She reached in the freezer for the whipped cream. “No, I’m not after a man to be my husband, pay the bills, and make me legitimate. But hey, not a bad idea now. Since the world has gone wonky evil. What woman couldn’t do with a little pampering, a lot of pampering, being taken care of. Of course, I could never be that 1950's wife role, either.”
She lightly plunked the bowl down, picked up the large spoon. “One reason I never married. But then, that’s not what you meant, was it?”
“Cherub trap?” Volcano kept slicing, kept listening, kept learning her human side.
“How do you trap a cherub? A man cherub?” He watched her spoon out the whipped cream, and pile it on lavishly. “Too much whipped cream?” she asked, meeting his gaze.
“You kiss him the way you kissed me.” He savored her eyes, startled jewels created from aqua seas. “No, not too much.”
“Oh.” She put down the whipped cream spoon softly, deliberately, and pulled in a breath. “Man trap,” she whispered. “That’s what you meant, damned if you do, and damned if you don’t. Sorry, wrong choice of words.” She shook her head as if her hair was free, then put the whipped cream in the refrigerator. Picking up her bowl she faced him. “Fireplace.”
Volcano followed her, watched her sit down cross-legged before the fireplace. Joining her, he sat opposite, in front of one chair.
“Thank you, Goddess,” Sedona offered in gratitude. “And thank you.” She smiled above the huge piled bowl of shortcake, strawberries and whipped cream. She dove in, as if suddenly starving. “Now this is manna from heaven.”
“Delicious manna,” he spoke around a mouthful. Delicious mostly because he tasted her essence in the preparation.
For long moments it was just the pure delight of eating her
They collided as they both reached to turn off the oven. Sedona couldn’t move. He didn’t move. Her breath rushed wildly.
.
Chapter 4
How Do You Trap a Cherub?
“One kiss,” he murmur-tempted.
Her breaths escaped, wilder, softer.
“Sure. Maybe I’ll hate how you kiss.”
Only his lips touched her lips, his mouth tender demand. His kiss became such consuming softness, she surrendered, moaning as he deepened the kiss to incredible. To dreamy, to wild.
Tenderly he relinquished her mouth. Stepping back, he didn’t attempt to kiss her again.
Her cheeks flamed. “I can’t hate your kiss, can I?” She shoved away from the cabinet, her limbs tingling weakness. “Bowls,” she murmured, more breath than sound..
Volcano opened one of the top cabinet doors for her, and watched her select two of the large cereal bowls. Her lips had been more lush, more giving than he’d imagined, than he’d known a woman could offer a man.
His sexual being was savage to know more, but that would be a mistake. She would run from him emotionally and not stop. Always, his first duty was to protect her.
“These are heavenly,” she crooned, inhaling. “Nothing like the smell of real strawberries. It’s been years.” She set the bowls on the counter near the basket of strawberries. “Do cherubs hate?”
“Fierce like a warrior, yes. Hate, no. That’s a human emotion.” Volcano reached back for the sheet of shortcake.
“One to start?” Sedona slid the spatula beneath one.
“Two.” He grinned. As she put them in the bowls, he cut them in half. “I’ll slice the strawberries. Good with sharp implements,” he assured, his jovial nature asserting itself.
“Then you could fiercely dislike my kiss, but not hate how I kiss?” Sedona searched for a large stainless steel spoon and dessert spoons.
Volcano wondered if he was about to fall in a human woman’s trap. He would if he misspoke. Or, perhaps, if he said anything. And maybe, if he said nothing?
“Man trap?” he asked, slicing the juicy red fruit.
Sedona half-laughed. “Do you mean like a Marilyn Monroe movie?” She reached in the freezer for the whipped cream. “No, I’m not after a man to be my husband, pay the bills, and make me legitimate. But hey, not a bad idea now. Since the world has gone wonky evil. What woman couldn’t do with a little pampering, a lot of pampering, being taken care of. Of course, I could never be that 1950's wife role, either.”
She lightly plunked the bowl down, picked up the large spoon. “One reason I never married. But then, that’s not what you meant, was it?”
“Cherub trap?” Volcano kept slicing, kept listening, kept learning her human side.
“How do you trap a cherub? A man cherub?” He watched her spoon out the whipped cream, and pile it on lavishly. “Too much whipped cream?” she asked, meeting his gaze.
“You kiss him the way you kissed me.” He savored her eyes, startled jewels created from aqua seas. “No, not too much.”
“Oh.” She put down the whipped cream spoon softly, deliberately, and pulled in a breath. “Man trap,” she whispered. “That’s what you meant, damned if you do, and damned if you don’t. Sorry, wrong choice of words.” She shook her head as if her hair was free, then put the whipped cream in the refrigerator. Picking up her bowl she faced him. “Fireplace.”
Volcano followed her, watched her sit down cross-legged before the fireplace. Joining her, he sat opposite, in front of one chair.
“Thank you, Goddess,” Sedona offered in gratitude. “And thank you.” She smiled above the huge piled bowl of shortcake, strawberries and whipped cream. She dove in, as if suddenly starving. “Now this is manna from heaven.”
“Delicious manna,” he spoke around a mouthful. Delicious mostly because he tasted her essence in the preparation.
For long moments it was just the pure delight of eating her
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