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Not good.
I grab the first thing I can reach off the hanger before heading into the bathroom. It’s a snug, grey cotton dress I usually don’t wear because it’s sinfully tight.
Not exactly what I had in mind, but I’m not about to turn around and go back for another outfit. I need to cool off.
The shower doesn’t do much for the lust, but I feel much cleaner without the saltwater in my hair. I take a bit of extra time to blow dry my hair and pull it into a high ponytail. Some small strands still hang around my face, but at least it’s out of my eyes, and I don’t need to spend another twenty minutes styling it.
In theory, the dress is modest enough. It’s long-sleeved and reaches mid-calf. But there’s enough spandex in the fabric that it clings to me everywhere.
I bought it from a thrift store while reading a particularly delicious book last summer. It was so delicious that I was seriously considering finding someone I could try and date. If anything, I just wanted to see if the books were overemphasizing how awesome sex was. But after taking the dress home, I chickened out and shoved it into my closet.
Maybe I can try out the dress today.
The thought gives me pause. Is that really my own desire? I’m still not comfortable with the knowledge that a supernatural bond is at least part of the reason I want Leon.
The man is attractive, there’s no denying that, but I wonder if I’d want him nearly as much if there wasn’t a paranormal connection that seems determined to take my V card.
This is a new level of interference with my sex life. Now, even the supernatural creatures and “destiny” want me to get laid.
No pressure.
Exiting the bathroom, I grab my barstool, bringing it over to the bed. Best if we aren’t both on the bed again.I’ve read enough smut to know precisely where that almost led.
It's too bad I don’t own more than one stool. Still, one person on the bed is better than two.
I pause before sitting when I realize Leon is wearing new clothes. He’s now sporting brown leather pants and a white shirt. Neither look like they are from a century I recognize. Next to the bed, leaning against my headboard is a sword. And it's an honest-to-goodness sword with a blue gem in the hilt.
“How – where did you get the clothes?” I ask, bewildered. I double-check the oven clock. I’ve slept in, and the stores in town are open now, but I doubt he could get any of that gear from around here.
Leon is amused. “They’re mine. I apparated them from my holdings.” He pauses and looks me up and down. Twice. “I like your clothes too.” He says the words slowly as he stands up to join me, but I hold up my hand, stopping him.
“Oh no, you don’t. I know we have a weird bond-connection thing going on, but I have questions, and we need to talk. And we just met. Literally last night.” I’m ready to go on and list more reasons why we should keep our distance when Leon leans back against the wall and holds out a hand, indicating that I should sit.
“Then let’s talk.” He says, looking relaxed once again.
“I have questions,” I repeat, definitely not paying attention to the chest muscles I can see through his very thin shirt.
Leon notices me noticing and smiles. I blush and look down.
“Look all you want, Vivian, we’re bound. I will have no other but you.” I can feel his eyes on my body again. It’s getting very hot, very fast.
I try to catch my train of thought again. The man is blowing away my concentration. “Questions.” I breathe.
His voice is low, like a purr. “You have some for me?”
“Yes,” I respond, and then spot my grey sweatpants folded on my bed. “Wait – why did you wear my pants last night if you can just magic yourself some clothes?”
Still smiling, he answers. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you last night. You’d already been through a lot, and...”
“And?” I press on.
Leon looks mischievous now. “I would never say no to the opportunity of getting in your pants.”
Once again, the bond between us lights up.
Oh boy.
“Why does it do that? The bond…” I ask. “Why does it make me...”
