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“You’re beautiful, Pax,” he mutters then, breaking the spell. He’s still gazing outside, or at his reflection in the glass, I’m not sure. “The women who pay for my services usually aren’t, and I don’t tell them they are.”
There’s a knot in my throat, and I’m not sure why. I wait for him to say something more, but he only turns his head a little, and I realize it’s not the lights outside or even his own reflection he’s been looking at.
It’s mine.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper. God, this guy confuses me so much. “What—”
“It’s not about what I want,” he says. “You’re paying me, remember? This is about you.”
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Yeah, you do.” He cuts me a sideways glance, and his smirk comes back. “You want to have sex with me.”
“Riot…” I turn and stalk back to the bed. I hesitate there, because, really, I’m on my way to the door. “That’s the problem. It doesn’t matter if I want it. I can’t go through with it.”
“So you do want me.” He follows me, and boy, the way he walks is so sexy. “I can work with that.”
“Work how?”
“Do you know,” he sits on the bed and I’m rooted to the spot. He’s so close, I can feel the heat from his leg against my shin. “I have a kitten. His name’s Dex.”
“Dex?”
“Dexter. He’s black, and he only has three legs. It took him a long time to accept my presence, my touch. You’re like him.”
“I’m like a three-legged kitten?”
“But prettier.” He grins, and those deep, sexy dimples make their appearance, drawing my gaze. “My point is, you’re scared of me. Of men.”
“And you think you can tame me, like you did your kitten?”
“Dexter isn’t tamed. He just likes me. And I think I can make you trust me. Lose your fear of me.”
I doubt it. Partly because he’s so hot I may burn, and partly because I don’t know what to do with that. But...a kitten. For some reason the thought makes me smile.
“What?” He leans back on his hands, and he looks so good, sprawled like that in front of me, his legs spread. His black T-shirt is riding slightly up, showing me a stripe of muscled flesh.
“Nothing.” I bite my lip to crush the smile. “You have a kitten.”
“And a dog. His name’s Batman.”
My smile can’t be contained anymore. A snort escapes me. “Batman?”
“His ears are like this.” He demonstrates with this fingers. “Stiff, like Batman’s.”
Giggling, I drop my purse to the floor and sit down beside him. “Does he also have three legs, or is he the traditional four-legged kind?”
“Four legs, this one.” Riot’s eyes sparkle. “But he’s like an octopus when he gets excited, all paws, like when I bring him his favorite treats. He’s knocked me on my ass plenty of times.”
“
So...a kitten and a dog. And a girlfriend?”
“No girlfriend, no.” He sits up. “Just me and the boys.”
We’re sitting side by side, our heads bent together. His scent wraps around me—his deep spice, cinnamon and pepper, and his shampoo that smells of cedar and apples. I can see the bright yellow and orange lines of his tattoo that disappear under his short sleeves, the fine hairs on his thick forearms.
“I don’t have any pets,” I say, not even sure why I’m telling him this. “I’ve always wanted a cat.”
