Mentally, she offered herself a round of admiring applause.
“My fault, huh?” His snort ruffled her hair. “Gladly plead guilty tothatcharge.”
More lighthearted conversation, coming right up. “You’re also facing one count of attempted cannibalism and one count of reckless hickey infliction.”
The teeth marks on her shoulder would probably disappear in minutes, since he’d barely nipped her. That love bite on her neck, though? Given how hard he’d sucked, it’d take far longer to fade. If her shirt collar didn’t cover it, all of Harlot’s Bay was going to see it and know exactly what she and Karl had been doing. Well,someof what they’d been doing, anyway.
“Please know that anything you grunt in response can and will be used against you in a court of law,” she added.
His hand glided up to the base of her neck and squeezed. He rubbed his thumb over the sore bit of skin there, then slid his fingertips over the place where he’d sunk his teeth so carefully into her shoulder.
He paused on that spot. “Shouldn’t have marked or bitten without asking. Got carried away. I’m sorry.”
His voice was gruff but sincere. And honestly, even though he reallyshouldhave asked first, she didn’t truly mind. Especially since she hadn’t relaxed this thoroughly in years.
“The court accepts your explanation and is prepared to render judgment.” She lifted his head to smirk at him, then nudged her leg against his unflagging erection. “I hereby sentence you to one afternoon of blue balls.” After a moment’s thought, she added, “Although, technically speaking, sexually disappointed testicles don’t actually turn blue. Otherwise, I imagine there’d be way more Papa Smurf–related jokes made at their expense.”
He waved that off, intent brown eyes searching hers. “We good, Dearborn? You forgive me?”
“Yeah.” Part of his beard had gone wonky, and she smoothed it down with her finger. “We’re good. Truly.”
His shoulders visibly relaxed, and his palm stroked back down her spine as he tried to ease her closer once more. With regret, she resisted the gentle pressure.
“That said”—she fished her phone from her back pocket, where it had luckily remained safe and sound during all their shenanigans, and checked the display—“I’ll need to take a rain check on lunch. It’s later than I realized, and Lise and I should be meeting not too long from now. I want to get cleaned up before seeing her.”
Her inner thighs remained uncomfortably damp, he’d worked her into a light sweat before she came, and she probably smelled like sex. As soon as she got back to the Spite House, its tiny bathtub-shower combo would have to reluctantly accommodate her once more.
Also, she needed to impose some distance between herself and Karl. Needed enough time alone to emerge from her orgasm-induced daze and get her head on straight.
Sliding free from his embrace was harder than it should have been. But she locked her shaky knees and did it, stepping back from him. One pace. Two.
He let her go without a struggle, although his stare remained uncomfortably sharp. “Today went way better than that goddamn escape room. Even before I finally got my hand inside your jeans. You agree?”
She nodded and tucked her phone back into her pocket.
While the orgasm definitely constituted the highlight of her afternoon, today’s exercise had in fact convinced her of a few important things. For instance: Karl wouldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. Even blindfolded, she hadn’t felt unsafe for even an instant, which wasn’t such a small revelation. Also, when given the chance to talk about foodstuffs, he could in fact communicate clearly and sufficiently, and they could work as an effective team.
Those discoveries probably explained why she’d let him overhear her call with Rob. Why she’d willingly told him why and how her marriage had ended and what her ex-husband currently wanted from her. Why she’d allowed herself to accept Karl’s support.
But life wasn’t all blindfolds and bougie goat cheese, sadly. She wished it were. And unfortunately, she had a sinking feeling that he was about to—
“You trust me now?” he asked, his voice gruff but eager.
There it was. The question she’d hoped to avoid. The question that, if answered with total honesty, would douse the hope and anticipation gleaming in his dark eyes and erase the small, happy smile curving his slightly swollen lips.
An expression of even cautious joy didn’t appear often on Karl Dean’s face. The thought of wiping that joy away literallynauseated her. But... lying wouldn’t help anyone in the long run, including—maybe evenespecially—him.
Did she trust him now?
“More than I did before,” she said carefully, and watched his smile flicker and die, because he didn’t get it.
Even that guarded, incomplete faith in Karl was far more than she would have predicted after their disastrous escape room attempt. More than she’d granted anyone but Lise in years. The shift constituted genuine progress, and it had real significance. Itmeantsomething.
Something wasn’t everything, though—and Karl apparently wantedeverything. Now.
“You trust me more than you did before,” he repeated, each word precise.
She braced herself for an argument. Nodded again.
