“Right.”
“They’re all happy to help with the dead bodies and sorting out supplies. Avan wants to focus on putting together a decent medical setup. Just in case.”
“That makes sense.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Naomi said—”
“For someone who doesn’t trust them, you sure seem to like them. Or some of them, at least.”
He freezes and his forehead fills with furrows. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He studies my face like I’m a puzzle to be figured out. “Talk to me.”
“Really, it’s fine.” I give him the fakest smile in all of time and space. But it doesn’t hold and he doesn’t seem the least bit convinced.
This sucks. The confusion. The tangle of emotions in my head and my heart. Logically, Dean as an interest of my like or love is wrong and bad. However, all of the thoughts and feelings inside of me are so fucking complicated.
“Sit down a minute,” I say.
“You want me to sit down?”
“Yes. Next to me.” I contain myself to one end of the leather couch. “Here.”
The glance he gives me is wild. Rattlesnakes have been looked at with less caution. Scorpions have been cozied up to with more warmth. “What’s going on, Astrid?”
“There’s something I need to know.”
He just waits.
No point in half-assing this. For the purposes of scientific research, it must be done.
I climb onto his lap so that our chests are facing each other and I’m straddling him. And his expression is everything, with his mouth open slightly and his eyes as wide as can be. His hands immediately grip my thighs good and tight. Like he’s scared I’m going to try to get away.
“Don’t move,” I say.
He frowns. It’s truly his favorite face.
This position puts me a little above him in stature. He feels good and solid beneath me. And I can do whatever I want and touch him how I like. Talk about a power trip. It’s nice to be the one calling the shots for a change. His gaze takes in my face, my neck, and my chest. There’s a tension to him. An odd sort of wired energy.
I brush my fingers through his thick hair, pushing it back from his face. Then I trace the pads of my fingers over those oh-so-familiar furrows on his brow and the line of his jawbone.
He holds himself perfectly still beneath my exploration, letting me do as I please. Given how his shoulders are rising andfalling, however, it takes considerable effort for him to remain still. To allow someone else to have control.
His skin is warm and the stubble on his jaw rough. There are hints of gray the same as the threads in his hair. He has lines near his eyes from squinting into the sun. Not so many bracing his mouth from smiling. Something I would very much like to change.
I press my face against his thick, strong neck. Damn, he smells good. Salt and pine and something just him. Hiding here feels safe. The world could fall and rise a hundred times and none of it would matter.
“Are you sniffing me?” he asks with interest.
“Shh. Don’t ruin it.”
“Sorry.”
Shit. Such bad news. I like this and I want him. It’s a definite. Things are happening in both my heart and pants regions. I was really hoping to avoid same but there’s no denying it. And he’s growing hard against me from just this much contact.
“You like this, don’t you?” he asks. “Being in control.”
