Page 100 of Heimlock

She nods slowly. “It could be good to get some fresh air, though.”

I eye her delightfully skimpy outfit. “You’ll probably need help getting dressed.”

“Definitely.”

Nerves flutter in my belly. We’re in such a precarious position here. I’m terrified of overstepping a boundary. “Can I point out the obvious?”

She arches an orange eyebrow. “As opposed to …?”

I throw the dishtowel at her; it hits her in the face. She giggles. Closing the distance between us, heart in my throat, I part her legs and scan her face for any hint of discomfort. There’s nothing but excitement in her expression.

Brushing a rogue strand of hair from her face, I say, “While it’s not my place to assume that a kiss means anything, it’s clearly going to change things. You don’t have to pretend to need help for me to stay, Kyrielle. I’ll be here as long as I’m welcome.”

“It was that obvious, huh?” she says with a wry twist of her lips.

“I’ll pretend to be blind to anything obvious if you want, Firefly,” I joke, absolutely meaning it. “But I’m also afraid of crossing boundaries or making you uncomfortable.”

“You’re the one sleeping on the floor,” she points out.

And don’t I know it. The crick in my neck won’t let me forget. “I don’t care about sleeping on the floor. It was a common occurrence growing up.”

Sadness flickers in her expression, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she says, “I wouldn’t mind an extra day of help.” She gives me a sly smile. “And for someone to cook for me. I hate cooking.”

I laugh, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll cook for you every day if you want.”

“Promise?”

“I swear it.” I’d cook her three meals a day if it meant I could take care of her.

“Okay,” she says shyly. “Do you want to help me get dressed?”

Time to test the waters. “I’d much prefer to do the opposite.”

My lungs stall, terrified of how she’ll take the joke. We need to move past this awkward phase of limbo, and this is the only way I know how.

“Maybe later,” she says, grinning.

Exhaling in relief, I return the grin. Tapping her knee affectionately, I step back. “Come on, Firefly. Let’s get this day started.”

She hops off and we walk into the bedroom. She stands at the closet entrance, eyeing her clothes. When she finally decides on the outfit, she pulls the pieces off hangers and hands them over. My mouth goes dry when she turns around, offering me her back.

“Can you unhook this?”

I stare down at the bra. I spent almost three days completely separating what needed to be done from my attraction to her. Whenever she was naked, I truly didn’t objectify her in the slightest.

But now, after that kiss? I’m desperate to lick up her spine, starting at those adorable butt dimples.

I’ve hesitated for too long because she turns halfway to look at my face. “Trinte?”

“Y-yeah,” I clear my throat. “Sorry, I got a little distracted.”

The corner of her mouth tilts up. “You’ve removed bras before.”

Understatement. But this time’s different. With shaking fingers, I unhook the bra in one smooth movement. Her bare, muscular back taunts me with the gentle slope of her spine. Goddess, I want to lick it. Preferably while I’m—

“Trinte?”

Shaking away the inappropriate thoughts, I take the shirt out of her hand. You can do this, you sex crazed pervert. Careful to avoid looking at her breasts, I help her put the shirt around her wings. When that’s done, I take the pants and kneel in front of her.