Leo (The Zodiac Queen #5) - Gemma James Page 0,3

in as freedom spans on the horizon. I’m not sure why, but something’s shifted between us. Maybe he needed to get away from that circular prison as much as I did.

He tilts his head my way. “See something you want?”

I startle to awareness, realizing how I’ve been staring for the past mile or so. His full lips twitch, threatening a cocky smile, and I remember the way they felt on mine—lustful, impatient, decadent. I’m dying to taste him again.

“I was just thinking,” I say, still gawking at him. God, he’s beautiful.

“About?”

“Your mouth.”

He raises a brow as the car slows. “A little elaboration would be nice.”

“So would knowing where we’re going.”

Making a right turn, he laughs. “Another minute and you’ll find out.” Slowing to a cautious speed, he navigates down a narrow drive. Tall trees offer privacy and shade as a storybook cottage comes into view. An arched door made of distressed wood provides the main focal point, surrounded by sandstone siding. The gabled roof is a steep pitch over the front door in an asymmetrical design, giving the place a fairytale feel. Behind the cottage, I spy the vastness of the sea.

I look at Sebastian, brows arched in surprise. “Where are we?”

“One of my family’s properties.” He shuts off the engine. “And before you ask, the answer is no.”

“No?” I tilt my head, wondering what he thought I’d ask.

“I’ve never brought Lilith here.”

“Oh,” I mumble stupidly, my heart taking a tumble in my chest. I don’t know why that’s important, but something tells me it’s a significant admission.

He pushes open the driver’s side door, and before he can round the hood, I slide out of my seat. Wordlessly, he takes my hand and leads me to the front entrance.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.” The wooden door opens into the main living space, and though the exterior charms one into believing they’re entering a fairytale, the inside is cozy yet modern—a synchronous collision of sandstone flooring covered in throw rugs, seating areas of overstuffed furniture in muted shades of blue, and a prominent wall of windows facing the ocean.

“I spent a lot of time here before the transition to the tower.”

“Didn’t you grow up there?”

“As a child. I left the day I turned eighteen.”

“So this place is like your home away from home?”

“The tower is my home away from home.” He leads me up three steps into a kitchen modest in size but not lacking in luxury. “I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I had the staff prepare something for us.” He nods through a stone archway leading into what looks like a bedroom with the door ajar. “And our luggage should be in there already.”

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“Damn right, I have.” He picks me up and lifts me onto the center island. “Especially which part of you I want to taste first.” His eyes shine like sapphires in the shadows of the kitchen.

“Which part did you settle on?”

“All of them.” He settles between my thighs and brings a thumb to my mouth. “Every freaking inch of you.” He presses his thumb between my lips. “Have you thought about tasting me again, princess?”

“Maybe,” I say, breathless as I suck his thumb into my mouth.

His pupils dilate. “Jesus, Novalee.” Abruptly, he pulls away. “You keep that up and I’ll eat you for lunch right on the counter.”

I lick the salty taste of him off my lips. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yeah.” He opens the fridge and pulls out a paper bag. “I want to take my time with you—not devour you five minutes in the door.”

“You could have devoured me during the month of Gemini, but you didn’t.” There’s a challenge in my statement, and I hold my breath as I wait for his answer, silently watching him prepare a picnic basket with whatever goodies are stowed away inside that bag.

“It was Landon’s month.”

“He’s my brother.”

“Obviously, I know that. Just because he’s your blood doesn’t mean his month didn’t stand between us.”

“That’s an excuse,” I say. “You were conflicted.” He meets my eyes, and I dare him to deny it.

“We were both conflicted, Novalee.”

I walked right into that one with both eyes wide open. Nothing I say will set this conversation on the right track, so I don’t even try. Instead, I nod toward the picnic basket. “I take it we’re eating outside?”

A knowing smile plays on his lips. I’m certain he sees through my attempt at changing the subject, but he lets it go.

For now.

“We have private beach access. No one’s