“And now?”
I huffed out a laugh, ignoring the heavy weight pooling between my thighs. Wetness, I’d bet, although nothing had happened between us. Nothing, I reminded myself. “Well, still no sex.”
16
Micah
“Shame.”
“Yeah, well. I promised myself I wouldn’t settle again.”
“Good. You shouldn’t.” It came out bossier than intended. But then part of me needed reminding, too. I wouldn’t let her settle for someone like me. Someone whose brain didn’t always work right, who couldn’t quite get a handle on society. Who needed solitude like most people needed water.
“Yes, sir.”
Those two words sent a tingling down my spine. Not an Army flashback, I realized after a moment, but something else. Something darker and deeper, older than the military. Something that made my pants a little tight and my belly warm. And then that thing, whatever it was, opened my mouth and pushed words out. “When I was homeless, I dreamed of a woman like you.”Even now. Tell her. Even now, I can’t stop thinking about it.
She gasped, the sound barely audible, though it left her mouth open.
“Someone beautiful. Strong, you know?” And then my mouth took off without me. “And smart, with a...”Idiot. “Juicybody.”
“Oh.”
“Always into curves like yours.” I didn’t dare look at her as I continued. “Stuff fantasies are made of.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I know. You didn’t ask me, did you?” I sighed and leaned back into the cushions, rubbing my face hard. What the hell was I doing? Why was I telling her this shit? Probably scare the crap out of her. “You being here.” I coughed out a pained little half-laugh. “Kinda throwing me for a loop.” I lifted a hand. “My fault, not yours.Myproblem.”
She huffed out a laugh and threw me a side-eye that said maybe I was the one throwing her for a loop.
As if she needed one more horny asshole making a play for her.
Even that thought didn’t stop me from following some booze-bred urge to put my hand out, palm up, on the sofa. I stared at it, cracked and callused, between us, as though it wasn’t even a part of me, but something I put on in the morning, like my leg. For someone who didn’t spend all that much time in my head, I suddenly felt like I wasn’t inhabiting my body either.
Homeless, wandering, looking at my overly-breakable edges from someplace outside. I’d say hovering in the air above us, except that hand between us was my version of flattening out on the floor, prostrating myself.
She laid her cool palm over mine, slid her fingers between mine, and squeezed. Just that touch and I flew back inside—my person, my soul or something—filling out my flesh to its edges.
And only then could I confront this thing I’d torn open and look at her face again. What I saw shoved the air from my lungs and closed my fingers around her hand, in an unconscious spasm.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
I stroked my thumb along her finger, the only place I could reach without moving our hands and ruining the moment. “I don’t know.”
I couldn’t tear my gaze from her face, so pretty and doll-like, but also flushed and real. Warm and soft. Bright and lively. Her teeth bit into that tender bottom lip, mesmerizing me more surely than any drug I’d tried and rejected. This woman could become an addiction.
One of the dog’s collars rattled, bringing me out of my stupor.
“You hungry?”
She blinked, like it’d woken her up, too. “Just a minute.” Her eyes flicked down to where our hands acted out all my fantasies. “I don’t want this to end.”
Those words set off an explosion inside me—excitement, yeah, but also nerves like I rarely got anymore, except when meeting a new client or something.
“This okay?”
“Yeah.” She tightened her fingers briefly. “Weird, right?”
