Page 28 of Theta

"Favorite candy bar?" I ask.

She tips her head to one side. "I don't eat sugar for the most part, actually. If I’m gonna eat chocolate, though, I'll take a Lily's sea salt and caramel. Or a coconut Built Bar."

I frown. "No Snickers? No Three Musketeers?"

"Nah. Never had either." She holds up a hand to forestall my protest of disbelief. "Mom never bought into the average American diet, and you know how Dad is. So no. No candy bars, no pastries, no sugary soda. This," and here she pats the outside of her thigh, "is from my obsession with tacos."

God bless tacos, in that case, I think but don’t say out loud. Instead, I let out a soft laugh. "Tacos?"

She nods. "There's a place around the corner from the hospital, Luis's. He makes these pulled pork tacos that are to die for. They're little, like the slider version of tacos, and I don't know how he does it, but the shells are poofy and crispy. I get a box of half a dozen of them, bring them home after a shift, and eat them all by myself. They're freaking incredible and so bad for you, but I'm just obsessed." She lets out a groan, eyes closing, head tipping back. "Good lord, why did I have to start talking about Luis's pulled pork tacos? I'd do any number of dastardly deeds for just one of them right now."

That groan, lord almighty. It was damn near sexual, and it went right to my dick. I wince, shifting on the bed. "Jesus, Story. You can't make sounds like that. Not nice."

She sets the plate on the floor near the foot of the bed, the water bottle in one hand. "No? Why would that be, Killian?" Her gaze glitters with mischief.

I level a hard look at her. "No reason."

She's amused, smirking at me. "No reason, huh?"

"Nope."

She fakes a soft little moan, biting her lower lip. "No?"

It's fake. I know it's fake. I know she's teasing me. Doesn't change the effect on me, though. As we’ve previously established, penises are stupid, and mine is especially so where this woman is concerned. "No."

Her electric blue eyes drill into mine, amused, teasing. As if we weren't locked in a room somewhere in Italy, waiting to find out our fate. "You don't typically say things without a reason, Killy."

"Mouth ran away from my brain. Forget it."

The teasing gleam is replaced by a weird sort of tenderness, and she wiggles toward me, walking closer by shifting her weight from one buttock to the other, and then her thighs wrap around my waist and she's suddenly sitting on my lap.

She touches her lips to my ear. "Does it affect you, Killy?" She fakes a sexual whimper. "When I make noises like that?"

I don't know what to make of this, what to do, what to think. As Robin Williams once said, "See, the problem is God gave men a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time." Currently, all of the blood in my body is coursing southward to the stupidest part of my body.

"Yes," I growl. "It fucking does."

Her arms are pythonic around my neck, looped and serpentine, strong and smooth and warm and soft. Her breath on my ear is hot and loud. She nips at my earlobe. "Funny how good it feels to be warm, dry, and fed, huh?"

"Yeah," I answer, confused by the abrupt change in topic.

"A girl could almost forget about being in trouble."

"Is that so?" I ask, my brain going foggy and hazy and slow at the sensual timbre of her whisper.

"Of course, my scrubs are still a little damp."

I rack my brain for a witty repartee. "They feel pretty dry to me." I pair this genius retort with a slide of my hands over her shoulders and down her back.

She grins at me, as if my libido-charged idiocy is endearing. "No, they're still damp in spots. I should probably lay them out to dry."

"Yeah, maybe you should." At least I got that part right.

I definitely like the idea of her scrubs being spread out to dry, because that means they'd be off.

She slides back on my lap and rubs her hands on my thighs. "Your jeans are still pretty wet, too."

This is not a joke—my jeans are still damp and heavy and clingy and uncomfortable. I was just too damn exhausted to care when we were shoved in here.