“Says the Lilliputian.”
“Hey!”
But as quickly as the transformation occurred, it reverts. “Should I make us something to eat?” She opens cupboards, instantly appearing at home. “How long are we staying?”
“Take a seat. We still need to discuss some ground rules.”
“How about I be a good hostage, and you don’t kill me or Josh?”
“That works for a start.”
She pulls out a box of dried pasta and a packet of cheese sauce mix. “Do you like macaroni cheese? There’s no milk or butter but if I toss in enough spice, you won’t notice the difference.”
“Toss in enough spice and I won’t be able to eat it at all.”
A smile gets tossed my way again. “Baby mouth, eh? That goes with your baby face.”
“I don’t have—”
“That wasn’t meant as an insult. Can I play music on this thing?” She points to the radio. “I usually listen to music while I’m cooking. Otherwise, I get bored.”
“Knock yourself out. Just not so loud we can’t hear if someone’s approaching.”
She nods, flicking the switch and scrolling across the band until she finds an oldies station, playing shit from the nineties. Before my time, but I’m soon nodding along to the beat, smiling as she joins in the lyrics, her voice enthusiastically off-tune.
I have an overwhelming desire to get closer to her, so stand and take her hand, curling her back against me before I fall back into my chair, her perched on my lap. At first, she leans into me, hands on the outside of my thighs for balance, her cheek flush with mine, her breathing in synch, fast and heavy.
Her hand lifts, maybe to curl up around the back of my neck, to touch against my chest, who knows? She abruptly halts the gesture. Her shoulders curve into a protective shield while her chin tucks into her chest. Her backside wriggles against me as she moves forward, trying to slip away from me, to stand.
You’re playing too rough.
The replay of my mother’s voice is my head is so loud I swear it’s echoing around the room. My arms loosen, still around her but not squeezing, not holding her in place. She squirms again, then relaxes, head briefly resting against my chest before she pops back to her feet, dancing out of reach.
It’s just sex. You went from having it on tap to total abstinence. Of course, the first girl you sleep with again is going to make an impact.
Except she’s not a girl, and we certainly weren’t sleeping. And back when sex was on tap, it wasn’t like I took advantage. It never meant as much to me as it seemed to matter to everyone else.
It’s never overwhelmed me like it did back at the abandoned house. Going from desire to want to inescapableneedin thirty seconds flat.
This isn’t a good time for my sexual appetite to explode, but since it has, I need to get it under control. Either avoid her altogether or… Or…?
“I want you in my bed tonight,” I say, eyes averted because I really, really, really do not want to know what she truly thinks. Her words will be enough. I don’t need to read the subtler broadcasts of her body language. “If you… take care of my needs, I’ll make sure that whatever happens to either of us, Josh will have protection.”
“What needs?” she fires back, perhaps knowing specificity is its own weapon when I’m already tongue-tied.
“My…” I meet her gaze and swallowing becomes momentarily impossible. Saliva pools in my mouth. “Like before.”
Her eyes turn to steel bits, drilling into me. There’s a curl to her lip, barely visible, the canvas of her small mouth not large enough for an emphatic display. “Before, when you held me down on the bed and didn’t give me a choice?”
“You didn’t—” I cut myself off because I can’t say those words aloud and keep any dignity. Of course, she didn’t say no. I had my hand over her mouth while she tried to buck me off her. Her eyes narrow as the pause lengthens, then I incline my head.
“No,” she says.
The obvious answer. The one I knew she was going to give me. I rub my palm on my jeans where it’s suddenly itchy.
“I’m not…”
My head snaps up at the continuation. Holding my breath as she works through what she wants to say.
