Free Thin Love by Eden Butler Page A

that itched the tip of his tongue. Keira was jumpy, a little anxious and he liked it. “How else am I supposed to check out your back?”
    The small attempts he’d made tonight at getting her to relax were gone. The Keira standing in front of him, taking a step, two steps back as he walked toward her, reminded him of the girl he met in class earlier in the week. She tugged her hair off her neck and kept her eyes on her shoes. She was clearly nervous, obvious in her discomfort and Kona knew why. At least, he thought he did. Despite her attitude, the occasional sailor language, Keira was a good girl, the kind that didn’t often have boys in her room, maybe the sort that rarely spoke to guys in general. That told him one thing—she was inexperienced.
    Ignoring that thought, Kona sighed, made sure he stepped back so that the burning red color on her cheeks would fade. “I’ll be a gentleman. Promise.” Kona motioned toward the bed, tried not to laugh as Keira eyed him, settled on the mattress with her back straight.
    He wanted to laugh, to make a joke about how nervous she was, how stupid it was to think he’d try to take advantage of her. Then the blush on Keira’s face grew, shifted down her neck, to her arms and Kona caught a glimpse of her fingers, of her lips, shaking as though she’d caught a chill.
    I make her nervous, he realized and the thought had him feeling contradictory emotions—pride, knowing that she wasn’t as resistant to him as she liked to pretend she was, and shame, remorse, that him just being here was making an already shitty night worse.
    Back tight like a horse needle, Keira stilled, stopped moving completely as Kona slipped behind her, bringing his knee next to her hip. The proximity wasn’t necessary, but Kona wanted to test this thing, that weird electric something that had moved between them outside. He wouldn’t push her, hell no, that wasn’t his style, but he had caught a couple of glances from her in the library that made him think she wasn’t as disgusted by him as he thought. Really, he should have felt like a bastard. Less than a foot separated them on Keira’s firm, too tidy, too white bed. His breath moved down her back, rustling the brown hair that covered her cardigan. He could feel something there, something strange, something he couldn’t decide if he liked. And Kona knew he should give her distance, shouldn’t use Keira like a guinea pig.
    But her hair glowed against the faint overhead light and the sweet jasmine scent had his fingers itching, aching to touch her. In one hand, Kona took her hair in his hand, moving it over her shoulder. It was softer than he expected, thick wisps of silk that felt good, indulgent against his fingers, but he didn’t linger on how sweet she smelled, how much he liked the feel of her hair running through his fingers.
    “I, ah, have to lift your shirt up,” he said. He waited a second for her to fuss, to move away from him, but then Keira looked over her shoulder, eyes still narrowed and tight before she nodded once.
    Fingers barely grazing her skin, Kona helped her take the cardigan off, then lifted the shirt, revealing the pale, soft flesh, the faint looping birthmark on her lower back, the delicate white bra. His mouth watered and Kona closed his eyes, tried not to lean over her, tried to keep his mouth from that tempting back.
    Keira’s skin was smooth, enticing, and Kona smiled at the contrast between the muscle there and the dark skin of his rough hands. Light and dark. Night and day, and he didn’t mind how different she was from him.
    She had a strong back, curved with long muscle that made her spine concave, defined. Fine, barely there baby hairs rose when he pushed the shirt up, set it on her shoulders.
    He squeezed his fingers once, a touch Kona hoped she took as reassuring and he thought she moaned, thought maybe she’d liked his hot breath against her exposed back, but he wouldn’t see how far she’d let him touch her,