But then, she supposed, that was more relationship stuff. And sex didn’t require that two people be similar. Only that they ignited when they touched.
She certainly hadn’t imagined it would be an ex-convict accused of murder who would light her on fire.
Make her come.
Make her cry.
Then send her away.
It had been a strange twelve hours indeed.
“Faith?” She looked up and saw Isaiah standing in the doorway. “I need estimates from you.”
“Which estimates?” She blinked.
“The ones you haven’t sent me yet,” he said, being maddeningly opaque and a pain in the ass. He could just tell her.
She cleared her throat, tapping her fingers together. Hoping to buy herself some time. Or a clue. “Is there a particular set of estimates that you’re waiting on?”
“If you have any estimates put together that I don’t have, I would like them.”
She realized that she didn’t have any for him. And if she should...
That meant she had dropped the ball.
She never dropped the ball.
She had been working, full tilt, at this job for enough years now that she had anticipated the moment when she might drop the ball, but she hadn’t. And now she had taken on this extra project, this work her brothers didn’t know about, and she was messing up.
That isn’t why...
No, it wasn’t.
She was messing up because she felt consumed. Utterly and completely consumed by everything that was happening with Levi.
Levi Tucker was so much more than just an interesting architecture project.
It was the structure of the man himself that had her so invested. Not what she might build for him.
She wanted to see him again. Wanted to talk to him. Wanted to lie down in a bed with him, with the lights on so she could look at all his tattoos and trace the lines of them.
So she could know him.
Right. That makes sense. He’s nothing like you thought you wanted. Why are you fixating?
A good question.
She didn’t want him to be right. Right about virgins and how they fell in love as easy as some people stumbled while walking down the street.
“Faith?”
Isaiah looked concerned now.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You don’t look fine.”
“I am.” She shifted, feeling a particular soreness between her legs and trying to hide the blush that bled into her cheeks. It was weird to be conscious of that while she was talking to her brother.
