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HOOK
“Melancholy doesn’t suit you,” I whispered in Never’s ear.
She tensed against me, sitting with her back to my front in water that was hot enough to give her skin an angry pink tint.
“Can you stop that?” she asked.
“Stop what?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear her say it. Out loud. To admit and accept the connection we shared.
She huffed, sending a gentle ripple across the surface of the water. “The mind reading, or mood reading. Whatever you’re doing. Could you not, for like, five minutes?”
My inclination was to tell her no. Once a connection was made—or a claim was laid—it could only be broken by death. In truth, I was surprised her earlier demise hadn’t severed that link.
Even at my age, I wasn’t done learning. Now, with Never in my life, I suspected I never would be.
I could have told her all of that, but she also deserved the truth.
“You can learn to block me from sensing what you’re feeling if you want to.” I admitted, only half-cursing myself. Honesty was the right approach. Even if the wild animal inside me was kicking up a fuss about giving her this particular truth.
“Yeah?” When she started to twist around, I tightened my grip around her waist, holding her still. “How?”
Whether she knew it or not, every little movement, every minuscule shift, chipped away at my good intentions.
“First, I want you to put your hands on the tub, please.” She hesitated, but eventually did as I said. “Keep them there.”
“How is this going to help me block my emotions?”
“Patience, love.” I pulled one arm out of the water and slid my wet palm along her upper arm, to her shoulder, and finally to her slender neck.
I was obsessed with that sensitive bit of real estate. The woman had a beautiful body, breasts and hips that any sane man wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off, but it was that delicate, narrow stretch of sensitive flesh that I wanted to kiss, and nip, and bite, and grip.
Wrapping my fingers around her neck, she went even stiffer. Want and need filtered through our connection. So did an underlying rebellion, almost like she was itching for a fight.
“Does this bother you?” I asked, squeezing the tiniest bit.
She shook her head.
“Then why did you tense up?”
Silence was her answer, even though I could feel her internal conflict. I just didn’t know where it was coming from.
“Do you want me to stop?”
A pause, and again she shook her head.
I unwound my other arm from her middle. Sliding my hand lazily down her stomach, I let it come to rest just a few inches shy of my goal. “How about now?”
Another shake of her head. Anticipation washed over the connection.
“You want this,” I said, walking my fingers slowly across her skin beneath the water. “I can feel it.”
“Which means this little exercise clearly isn’t working.” Her voice carried some of her trademark sass, but there was disappointment mixed in there, too.
It made sense when I thought about it. She was the kind of woman who was usually in control. If she didn’t start out that way in a situation, she would take it.
Having her emotions on display, even just for me, was unsettling for her.
Whereas I wanted that connection, all of it. I was greedy for it. The woman kept so much locked inside... when she wasn’t running her mouth.
