Sorry, old man. This wasn’t part of the plan.
I don’t know what the fuck is anymore.
“It’s been forever since I had good Thai food,” she says brightly, leaning over to steal some of my drunken noodles.
“I thought you were in college not that long ago.”
“I ate a lot oframen. Not Thai. Most of it thrown together in my dorm from instant packs with a few frozen veggies and an egg on top if I was lucky.” She smiles at me through her lashes. “I was broke, Holden.”
“Now look at you,” I say flatly, tapping my fork on hers.
“Yeah, look at us…” She clears her throat shyly. “Takeout was one of the nice things I’d do with Dad. We always used to have Chinese and Thai when I was a kid. When I got a little older, it was a lot of pho. Saved him from cooking, I guess.” She shrugs. “I always thought it was great. The one thing he did teach me is it’s fair game to steal food off someone else’s plate.”
“Something we agree on.” I lean over, grabbing a forkful of her pad thai.
It feels weird to talk about the past when she’s warming my bed. Right after I fucked her brains out.
Which is something the greedy little imp controlling my dick wouldn’t mind doing again. Hell, make it ten thousand more times.
But we need to talk first.
Talking, shit.
That’s worse than lust and its consequences. It’s been so long since I’ve done this. Not just the sex, but… sex with strings.
And there are so many strings wrapped around us like an invisible web. Even if I wanted this to be a one-off, if webothwanted it that way, something tells me it won’t be.
That’s what I fear.
I knew I’d want more than cheap sex before I tore her clothes off, and that’s a problem.
For now, I clear my throat and find a safer subject.
“If it’s not just money you’re after with the Hera Egg, we should look at museums,” I say.
“What?” She blinks at me like I’m talking ancient Egyptian.
“I’ve done some reading. Some places are flexible. They’ll even pay you fees for ‘loaning’ it around on display. With all the precious items they house, their security is excellent. You wouldn’t have to worry if it’s bouncing between legitimate museums.”
She shoots me an amused look, more of that cinnamon hair falling over her face. Her sex hair looks lethal, especially when she keeps her lips sealed.
“What?” I growl. “It’s a reasonable thought.”
She laughs then, loudly, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth like she can shove it back in. But it spills out anyway, golden and happy. Well fucked and well-fed.
My dick hardens.
“Do you ever switch off? Is this just normal pillow talk after you sleep with a girl?” she asks. “Or am I a special case?”
I scowl at her.
Sheisa special case, dammit, but there’s no way I’ll say it out loud.
“What do you want to talk about, then?”What do you usually talk about after coming like an angel?
Not that I want to think about the other men she’s been with. She hasn’t slept with anyone else for months, she said.
Months.
