Besides ours.
TEN
GWENNA
Well.That was…something.
I pick my way up the stairs on wobbly legs and stiff knees, still a little short of breath and still alotdazed.
Maybe it was the relief that, in fact, there is no masked mysterious contingent of French monks on their way to snatch me up and...I don't know what. For the time being, anyway.
Maybe it was the way Kai looked just now, all intense and focused on the minute, undoubtedly finicky work of assembling weapons--there's just something about guys who are good with their hands, I guess.
Point is, I'm not fully sure what came over me just now.
But...
But Iamsure what cameintome.
Jesus, Gwenna. Where'd that come from? I almost laugh out loud as I step out of the stairwell into the kitchen.
Guess I am that kind of girl. On some level, anyway.
The kitchen is still, quiet, just late afternoon sunlight streaming weakly from the big windows, the usual neat ceramic bowls of fruit--winter citrus, still, even though it's April--on thecounter and the air warm and vaguely fragrant, like coffee and cloves. And here, on the terra firma of the first floor, I blow out a very long breath.
Because I have been left with a lingering problem.
I'm horny as fuck.
I lick my lips, considering. I could go, ah, take care of myself, I guess, but if I’m being completely honest, I’ve only ever been like a C+ masturbator at best. I'm not morally opposed, or anything--no more repressed than your average former Catholic schoolgirl, anyway. No, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is…just not that good at making herself come, I suppose. And I'm out of practice, besides; since moving into Camlann House permanently, with the four of them, it really hasn’t been something I’ve needed to do much.
Or, of course, I could do what a normal person does--what is probably much more in keeping with my actual nature, for that matter--and justgo about my day,unobsessed with sex.
But normal people don't really find themselves in these situations in the first place, do they?
I hug my arms around myself, debating, and a little cold, as the low pad of footsteps approaches from the living room.
"Oh." Callahan straightens up, noticing my presence. "Hi." He's got a water bottle in one hand, which he sets on the gleaming countertop, abandoning his refill. "I didn't know you were home."
Home.I like how he says it. But it is, isn't it? This immaculate kitchen and all its polished appliances, its perennially stocked pantries, its warm browns and reds against the slate-colored bleakness outside. This whole house. The salle, the living rooms, the bedrooms...
A rush of heat surges to the center of me. I bite my lip again.
“You okay?” Cal asks.
“Uh huh.” I swallow. My throat is a little thick still for...reasons.
Suddenly, I wonder what would happen if I kissed Cal, right now. Freshly, you know,after.Would he notice?
Not like he doesn’t know what it tastes like.
Oh my God. What is wrong with me? I bug my eyes out, shaking my head, and as I do, Cal stares at me.
Concerned.
"You sure?" He steps closer to me, and, after a moment of hesitation, grips my shoulders. Searches my face. "You're feeling okay? Not sick?”
Not like Lanz, I hear without him needing to say it.
