“We’ll see.”
“You shouldn’t overdo anymore now.”
Alex gave a short laugh. “No kidding. Tell that to Mr. Happy.”
At that prompt, she glanced down at his erection, which, sure enough, poked up against the sheets, as if it hadn’t just been thoroughly satisfied. Well wasn’t her pussy still throbbing and wet? She knew with certainty she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had him inside of her. Many, many times.
And that scared the pants off her.
“Let’s take it a bit slower, okay?” He spoke softly, as if he were dealing with a timid animal. “Why don’t you get me a towel, and we can play something else? We can talk a bit more, get to know each other. How’s that?”
She considered it. Okay, yes. This she could handle. After all, it wasn’t like she could run away from him. Where would she go?
Despite her bone-deep certainty that this man would change her life, could easily make her forget her vow, make her forget everything important, she didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to laugh and joke and talk with him, and when he was able, she fully intended to have sex with him.
Call her stupid. She couldn’t help herself. Genevieve stood. “Sounds good. Let me get a towel. Be right back.”
When she reached the door, he called out behind her. “You’re an arsonist on the run. That’s why you hate cops.”
Her lips twitched, a glimmer of her normal sassiness returning as she tossed her hair. “Soot makes me sneeze. Guess again.”
8
It would behell if he survived a gunshot wound, infection, dehydration and exhaustion only to die of sexual frustration.
Alex cast a quick glance at Genevieve across the chessboard they were sharing. Her eyes were cast down, her lashes long crescents resting against her cheeks. She nibbled at her lower lip and he almost groaned. Damn it, he loved it when she did that.
He sighed and looked down at the chessboard. After their run of cards had ended so spectacularly two days ago, they’d tacitly decided to turn to other modes of enjoyment. Yesterday had been Scrabble; chess today. Alex had been a bit unnerved by the emotions that had flashed across Genevieve’s face after their passionate session together. He didn’t want to spook her, cause her to run because she was scared of the heat that exploded between them. The emotions too. He couldn’t believe these strong feelings were one-sided. They had to be returned, right? God, he hoped so.
So he’d decided to be gallant if it killed him. No more sex until a) he was healed enough to give her the unbridled pleasure she deserved and b) he was well enough to snuggle off any of her fears after the fact.
They still slept together at night, and Alex hated it and loved it in equal measure. Having her body pressed against him without sinking inside of her was an exercise in torture, but she smelled so sweet and she became incredibly soft and cuddly after she fell asleep.
“Queen me.”
He refocused on the game and gave a silent groan to see her pawn had made its journey. He was proud to say he’d won the first couple of games they’d played. Then he’d started noticing things, like the way her breasts peeked out over the neckline of her shirt, or how she licked her lips while thinking, and he’d started a losing streak that hadn’t quit.
You are not controlled by your cock.
Great. Now someone just needed to tell Mr. Hopeful that. Alex figured the guy was getting back at him for making some very unpopular decisions about their sex life.
“Checkmate.”
He looked down, unsurprised to see the truth in that. “Congratulations. Again.”
“Don’t worry. I’m pretty good. You’ll get better.”
He’d gone to state championships back in high school. He sighed. “Okay, what’s your question?” The question-and-answer thing they’d continued, though Alex had toned down the sexual nature of his questions to go along with their mutual agreement to wait. He’d learned quite a bit about her and her life, probably more than she even realized she’d told him.
She’d painted a picture of a lonely little girl who’d always been different, who lived alone with her beloved mother isolated in the woods, who had craved normalcy and embraced it when she’d left for school and work. She’d kept her gift hidden from everyone, pretended to be just like everyone else, and loved life, thriving in the middle of a busy city.
Until she hit twenty-three. Since she was twenty-six now, Alex figured that had been the age when something had happened. It was like her life had ended at that point. She wouldn’t speak of anything after it, nor would she speak of the future. She made monthly trips to Newbury for provisions, made enough to live on by selling her crafts to a gift shop, but it didn’t seem as though she had any burning passion for that job. She seemed to view it as just a way to make a few bucks and survive. When he’d asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, instead of answering him, she’d pressed a soft kiss against his lips in forfeit. Her eyes had been so heavy with sadness, he couldn’t bring himself to badger.
He knew she’d returned to take care of her mother, but why she had stayed after her death was a mystery. Likewise, despite his half-teasing questions, he still didn’t know why she didn’t trust cops.
He watched her study him. So far he’d answered each of her questions honestly, no matter how painful. He’d spilled everything about his father’s death, his first girlfriend, the first time his mother had dated another man, and the list went on and on. Alex hoped his openness would encourage her, would show her how much he trusted her on faith alone. Otherwise, he was really bleeding his veins out here for her.
He braced himself for another doozy, and he received it. “Why did you move down here?”
