Unbidden, memories of clutching his head against me, my hands scrabbling for purchase in his short hair, washed over me. I’d barely slept since he’d tumbled me onto my couch and given me the hottest blowjob of my life, and when I did sleep, it was all him. Which was better than being awake and angsting over why he’d left without letting me return the favour.
Was this an appropriate time to ask?Dude, that’s a hard no.
And Isha didn’t seem interested in talking anyway. His gaze, like it had been most of the way out of Thorston, was fixed on the road, and I was abruptly so fucking tired of studying the side of his head that I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
I tipped my head back and shut my eyes. Isha’s car barely made a sound, and the plush leather seat seemed moulded to my body. Unscheduled naps tended to fuck me up, but sometimes I couldn’t fight it. My limbs grew weighted, and the motion of the car knocked me out. I had zero clue how much time had passed when cold air woke me up.
Dazed, I blinked hard, trying to clear the fog from my brain.
Isha was standing over me in the open door of his car, frowning in a way I didn’t recognise.
He said something. I couldn’t quite make it out. “What?”
“I said,”—Isha gripped my arms and eased me upright—“are you okay? I couldn’t wake you up.”
I winced. “Sorry. I go deep when I pass out. How long were you trying?”
“Long enough to make me wonder if I was going to have to take that electric worm thing home.”
“Milk snake,” I corrected automatically. “And I reckon you’d be just fine with it. Tam would know what to do.”
“That’s hardly the point.”
“What is the point?”
“Fucked if I know. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re pale as fuck.”
“I’m Welsh.” I rubbed my eyes in a futile attempt to wake up. “It’s my baseline to be practically see-through.”
Isha said nothing, and knowing too well what daytime naps did to me, I didn’t blame him. I was going to be out of whack all day, and my brain was too mushy to explain why.
Focus. You need to get that snake indoors and warmed up.
I rolled out of my seat and stood. My legs held, but Isha steadied me anyway, the weight of his unflinching stare still drilling holes into me, even as his touch stoked my growing, and inexplicable, addiction to him. I didn’t want him to touch me, but at the same time, I didn’t want him to ever stop.
“Jude.”
“Hmm?”
“Nothing. Let me get that box for you.”
Isha opened the back door and retrieved the plastic box. I moved to take it from him, but he shook his head. “Show me.”
My cotton wool brain could only assume he wanted me to show him where it was going, and I realised with a start that he’d parked right outside the shop. I’d slept all the way home.
Oops. I couldn’t decide if missing out on half an hour of strained banter was a good thing, or whether I’d regret it once Isha was gone.
Either way, I preceded him into the shop, ignoring the rush I got from the protective way he carried the traumatised snake. Isha did weird shit to me already. If I started seeing him as a reptile ally, I was truly fucked.
Ignoring Shaqueela’s obvious curiosity, I went straight to the back room and opened the tank I kept prepped for rescues. It was up to temperature, and as luck would have it, the perfect set-up for a milk snake. It just needed a water bowl.
I fetched a dish, and some purified water from the fridge while Isha hovered in the doorway, tracking my every move. My equilibrium was slowly returning, but I still felt fuzzy, kind of how I imagined people without a neurological glitch felt after a night on the beer. Nauseous and tired, even though I’d already slept.It’s your own fault for staying up all night with your dirty fantasies. You should’ve had a wank and gone to sleep, like every other single man on the planet.
Truth.
Isha came up behind me. My skin tingled, and the sensation almost eclipsed the fog. Almost, because figuring out that I needed to move the snake from the box to the tank was like wading through treacle.
I needed a minute. I pressed my forehead to the glass tank and closed my eyes. Distantly, I heard Isha set the plastic box down and move closer, but his hand on my back still surprised me. His palm was like a beacon at the base of my spine, unmoving and warm. I fixated on it, willing it to clear my head.
