Her face falls. “Oh. Right. You’re huge and you’ve got those horns. I mean, you’re tall. I mean—” She’s flustered now, cheeks pink.
“My bed is bigger.”
She stops rambling and stares at me. “What?”
I shrug. “My bed is king-sized. It would fit the both of us.” I clear my throat. Why is this so hard? I’ve negotiated with hostile media outlets and planned extractions in wild territory. And yet asking this female to share my bed is making me sweat. “Would you want to move into my room instead?”
“Your room,” she repeats slowly.
“Just for sleeping,” I add quickly. “I don’t want you to have nightmares alone either. And if you’re in my room, I’m right there. I don’t have to sleep in a chair. It’s practical.”
She laughs. Soft, surprised. “Practical.”
“Yes.”
“Jonus.” She’s smiling now, that smile that makes my chest tight. “Are you asking me to move into your bedroom?”
I growl, frustrated with myself. “I’m asking if you want to feel safe. I can make you feel safe. In my room. In my bed.” I realize how that sounds. “Sleeping though I promise. Just sleeping.”
“Yes.”
I blink. “Yes?”
“Yes, Jonus. I’ll move into your room.” Her smile widens. “For practical reasons.”
Chapter Twelve
Sloane
For practical reasons.
I can’t believe I just said that. As if there’s anything practical about moving into an orc’s bedroom two days after he rescued me from a Colombian jungle. My heart pounds as I watch this massive green orc gather my meager belongings like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
But here we are.
Jonus moves around the guest room, collecting the new clothes Aldar bought, the toiletries, my laptop and phone. He’s still shirtless, wearing only those soft sleep pants that hang low on his hips. I can see the V of muscle disappearing into the waistband. The broad expanse of his green back. The way his muscles flex as he reaches for things. His black horns and those white tusks are still doing it for me.
My eyes drop lower before I can stop them.
This orc’s ass is utter perfection. I literally want to bite one of his ass cheeks. Is it weird to notice that about an orc? Probably.Do I care? Apparently not. I look away quickly when he turns around. Then look back. Because apparently, I have zero self-control around this male.
Oh jeez, I think he just caught me watching. Our eyes meet. Something hot flickers between us.
He clears his throat. “Ready?”
No. Yes. I don’t know.
“Ready,” I say.
He comes back for me, scooping me up like I weigh nothing. I’d never been carried in anyone’s arms my whole adult life and now that I know Jonus, he’s done this so often it’s starting to feel normal. I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers brushing against the warm skin of his shoulders. The feel of his bare chest against my side does inappropriate things to that space between my thighs. Things I should not be feeling about an orc I’ve known in person for approximately forty-eight hours.
But I’ve known him longer than that, haven’t I? Weeks of late-night video calls. Hours of conversation. He knows things about me that Ryan never bothered to learn.
The hallway is quiet as he carries me past Aldar’s room across the hall—door closed, I can hear him talking softly. Is he on the phone with Lucy? Hmm.
And then we’re in Jonus Irontree’s bedroom. It’s only slightly larger than the room I just left. There’s a walk-in closet and an attached bathroom. The window looks onto the expansive backyard.
I still can’t get over the size of Garlen and Ellie’s lovely mansion. They are paying for all of this on two teachers’ salaries? Did Ellie come from generational wealth?
