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I carefully set her on her feet, kissing the top of her head again before letting her go. I couldn’t seem to keep my lips off of her. Which could be a major problem once we were alone near a bed. She needed to avoid strenuous activity until her symptoms subsided, which could take a couple of days or longer. Longer would probably cause my balls to explode at some point, but I’d risk it if it meant keeping Willa safe and healthy.
I reached into my pocket and dug out my wallet, then withdrew a credit card. I popped the lock on the first try, causing my brow to furrow as I frowned. “The security here is shit,” I growled. “Your dad know about this?”
Willa huffed and tried to stomp past me but got dizzy and swayed, nearly falling before I caught her. “I can take care of myself. He taught me to defend myself.”
“I’ve no doubt he did, Willa,” I said in a placating tone as I picked her up once more. “But that doesn’t mean you should just invite every motherfucking criminal out there into your house.”
“I’m not—” She stopped when I gave her a hard look. She’d been beaten, and she knew it. That lock was no better than a toothpick. Rather than continue her denial, she sighed. “I bought a deadbolt, but I’ve been busy with classes and…” She trailed off and laid her head on my chest. “I’m tired.”
I walked straight to her couch and gently set her down before glancing at my watch. “You need to stay up for a little longer, sweetheart. Then you can sleep all you want.”
“I thought you said I was fine,” she said with a big yawn.
“You are, Willa, but I want to make absolutely sure, so I need to watch your symptoms for a little longer.”
She nodded, but her eyes drifted closed as if she was about to nod off.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, shaking her shoulder a little to rouse her.
“Not really.”
I patted my hard, flat stomach. “Well, your man is starving, so why don’t you go change into something comfy, then keep me company while I make us some dinner? Maybe you’ll be in the mood to eat by the time I finish.”
I was surprised when she didn’t react to my statement about being her man. The only indication that she’d even caught my choice of words was the dusting of pink over her cheeks. Since she didn’t look upset, I let it go for the moment.
Willa shrugged and slowly stood, then she held my arm as I walked us across the living room to her bedroom.
“Will you be all right by yourself?”
“Um…yeah.”
“I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”
She looked as if she wanted to say something but just nodded and went into the room, closing the door.
It only took her a few minutes to reappear in a pair of thin sleep shorts that made me want to fall to my knees and see if I could suck her pussy through the fabric and give her an orgasm. I mentally shouted at myself to get some damn control, then looked at her shirt to distract myself from her legs.
She had on a Road Warriors T-shirt that had obviously been a man’s but had shrunk several times over. And still, it hung loose on her tiny body and almost to the bottom of her shorts. Adorable.
That thought was immediately followed by a rush of jealousy, and I growled, “That shirt better be your dad’s.”
Willa’s brows went up in surprise—my tone had been a little harsher than I’d intended. But then the corners of her mouth tipped up, and her eyes twinkled. “Jealous?” she asked cheekily.
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at her. “Yes.”
Her mouth formed a little O, and her cheeks turned bright red, but she still looked pleased with my response.
I stepped close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from my body and cupped her chin in my hand, raising it so she was looking directly into my eyes. “Tell me who gave you this shirt, Willa.”
She shivered and exhaled a trembling breath. “It’s my dad’s.”
“Good,” I said gruffly before planting a hard, quick kiss on her mouth. “Don’t want you wearin’ anyone else’s clothes unless they're mine.”
She seemed too stunned to reply, so I took her arm again and led her to the small but well-equipped kitchen. An island with a couple of stools separated the two rooms, but I didn’t want her getting dizzy and falling off, so I boosted her up and set her right on the counter.
She giggled and crisscrossed her legs in front of her. “I used to sit like this when I was a kid. My mom would get so mad, but Dad would just kiss her until she gave in, then went back to cooking.”
I wanted to know everything about her, and since she seemed to be in a sharing mood, I began to ask her questions. As a bonus, talking kept her from falling asleep. After rummaging around a bit, I found the ingredients to make spaghetti, which was a good thing since it was one of the three things I knew how to cook.
