I grabbed the remote and tossed it to him. “If we’re getting to know one another, let’s start with your taste in movies. You pick your favorite to watch first, then I’ll pick mine.”
He flicked the TV on, glaring at me out of the corner of his eye. “No Netflix and chill.”
“Only Netflix. No chill,” I promised.
“What’s your favorite food, color, scent, and book?” He scrolled through the options on the screen. “Favorite artist? Piece of art?”
“Spaghetti, black, leather, andLong Liveby V.B. Lacey. My favorite artist is Rosa Bonheur. I like all of her big cats.” I spouted the answers. “You next.”
“Grilled cheese, also black, cedar, and I don’t think I have a favorite book. Van Gogh, obviously… andIrises.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“Wow. I don’t think I like you anymore,” I said jokingly. “How do you not have a favorite book?”
He shrugged. “Lend me your favorite,” he said, nodding toward my stuffed shelves next to the TV.
“Sir. You don’t just ask a book girlie to lend you a book. Those are my babies. I value them more than I value my own life.”
He placed his hand over his heart, still holding the remote, and raised his other as if swearing an oath. “I vow to protect it with everything that I am.”
“This is a serious commitment,” I leveled.
“One that I am prepared to take seriously.”
“Lucky for you, I have two copies.” I walked over to my shelf and pulled the extra one off. “I still want it back, though,” I said, handing it to him.
“Fantasy,” he noted, flipping through the pages.
“Yes. And The Dark God is Daddy. Take notes.”
He gave me an incredulous look, sat the book down on the end table, and finally settled on a movie that also happened to be one of my favorites.
I curled into his side and he wrapped his arm around my body, holding me close. His fingers grazed my bare thighs and he shifted uncomfortably, which I appreciated.
Despite the temptation, he stuck to his word. We had a fairly uneventful—platonic—evening, and about halfway through the second movie and the third bag of popcorn of the night, the wine I’d drank finally did me in and I fell asleep on the couch.
I was vaguely aware of him carrying me to bed, and thankful that I had opted to change into something comfy because I wouldn’t have wanted to wake up to undress if I hadn’t.
Only sociopaths can sleep in jeans.
Snuggled into bed, it took no time at all for me to drift back off.
KIERNAN
It had been so incredibly hard for me to keep my hands to myself all evening, but I had truly wanted Indie to know that I was interested in more than just her body. I wanted to knowher.
But watching her sleep next to me in bed, that fucking dress barely covering her ass…
It was after midnight anyway, so technically a new day.
I ran my hand along the outside of her thigh, certain she would wake, but it seemed that Indie was not a light sleeper.
I was sure I could findsomeway to wake her.
I gently nudged her onto her back and wedged myself between her parted thighs,kissing each of them alternately as I worked my way toward her center.
I took my time, relishing in how soft her skin felt against my fingertips, against my lips.
