More. Oh, God, yes. More!
Her fingers dig into my waist a little as she reaches up, pressing her lips to mine and lapping at my tongue. I grip her waist, tugging her against me as my hands slide down to grab her ass.
For a moment, we writhe against each other, caught up in the magic of our bodies coming together. I’m almost ready to hurl her onto her back and take her right there, but she suddenly squirms in my arms, hitting me in the chest with both hands and shoving me away.
As she staggers backwards, I gasp for air, trying to get myself under control. Alisha looks even more gorgeous than usual as she stares up at me with her wide violet eyes, her mouth red from our kisses, her hair in a tangled curtain around her face.
“No,” she says firmly. Her dewy-eyed look is replaced by a stern expression, barely concealing her fury. “Don’t touch me—and don’t ever kiss me again!”
The words hit like arrows, but I just nod, not trusting my voice. I can see—and smell—how turned on she is, but I know from her tone the denial is true, and it is also final.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “Please come back to the cottage with me. I really do just want to keep you safe. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you—either with your ex, or the townsfolk.”
She frowns, just the smallest little crease between her brows. She gives me a small nod, turning to walk back in the direction of town. I follow behind her, watching her shoulders slowly slump down as her head lowers until she’s looking at the ground.
I don’t know if she’s tired or just plain miserable.
When we reach the gardens, Alisha briefly waves to a concerned-looking Grace before following me down the main path to the front of the gardens. I see my truck parked half on the gutter with the driver’s side door hanging open.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “I don’t remember leaving it like that.”
Alisha raises an eyebrow. “You were really in a hurry, huh?”
“Yeah,” I answer. When I look over at her, she has a strange look on her face, as if she’s pleased and trying desperately to hide it.
The drive home is short, and the sun is just sinking behind the horizon as we pull up out front. I offer her the bathroom first, and she gratefully takes off up the stairs.
I realize we still didn’t get her any clothes today, so I search around until I find some old sweats that I’d been meaning to throw away and leave them by the door before I head to the kitchen.
It doesn’t take me long to throw together some chicken pieces with tomatoes, onions, and mushrooms and put them in the oven to bake. By the time Alisha comes down, I have some rice cooking on the stove and salad tossed in a bowl.
“Anything I can do?” she asks.
“Sure,” I answer. “Slice up some of that nice bread, and maybe melt a bit of garlic butter? I’ll just run to the shower. I won’t be long.”
It isn’t until I actually get under the hot water that I start thinking about how she could run away while I’m in here, and I wouldn’t know until she was miles away. The idea makes me rush through my shower, but by the time I get downstairs, all Alisha is doing is sitting quietly at the table, munching garlic bread and sipping a cup of tea.
Even though this is the perfect opportunity to have a real conversation, my mind is utterly blank. I’m still stuck on our kiss and how good it felt to have her in my arms again. I focus on serving our food, so I don’t have to think too hard.
Even though we eat in silence, it doesn’t really feel awkward. I could almost believe this is a normal situation, and there’s no crazy ex, ancient snake, or past betrayal between us.
We clean up together, and after, I go into the living room to set myself up on the couch. It takes me a moment to realize Alisha has followed me and is standing in the doorway, watching me with a troubled look on her face.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, realizing too late that she could answer that in any number of ways.
Aside from being your prisoner, I’m just great, thank you, Brad.
“I’m…I’m just feeling a little scared,” she says softly.
I hurry over to her, but I don’t try to touch her. “What can I do?” I ask.
“Can you come upstairs with me?” she replies.
“Sure. I can stay with you until you fall asleep.”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Can you sleep beside me?”
“Okay,” I whisper, feeling my heart go into a gymnastic routine in my chest. I know she just wants comfort, and I’ve got practically zero chance at sex, but I don’t even care.
