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Chapter Twenty
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Sure thing, buddy.Let’s get right on that.
When the only thing I could think of “getting on” was the thick, long rod he ground ruthlessly against my cleft through his thick pants…
When the only thing I could comprehend “discussing” was how fast we could make it to a bed…
When the command on his face transformed into the lust through my body, and I wondered if we’d even need a bed…
But his dictate hadn’t been a suave “suggestion”. He expected one answer only. The response I’d be more than happy to give, if one whopper of a challenge didn’t still stand in the way.
“Ummm…Master?” He hadn’t demanded that one yet—but no way did his proper name feel right with a tree trunk at my back and his body surrounding me from the front.
“Yes?”
“What the hell are we even discussing?”
He stilled. It helped my tension—a little. While the friction was no longer a torment, the pressure of his cock, so full and hard, still was. His stare was an equal force, wrapping around me like the midnight it resembled. When one side of his mouth kicked up by half an inch, tweaking his look with a roguish combo of Captain Hook and Indiana Jones, that midnight was suddenly burst apart—by an explosion of curiosity.
Not all the good kind.
“Shiraz?” Master would have to deal with that. Bulging cock or not, that smirk couldn’t be ignored. “What the hell have you been up to?”
He tilted his head the other way—looking full of astonishment to match my own. “You really do not know? Samsyn did not keep you…filled in on the scoop?”
If his hold wasn’t so relentless, I would have wrenched free. I let my glare say as much. “On what scoop? From Samsyn?”
His brows arched. His jaw ticked. But while those tells communicated ire, his eyes twinkled like a giddy Vin Diesel en route to race a car off a cliff. What the hell? “Did you think I would not draw all the lines of logic, tupulai?”
Growly huff. It was better than the shoulder punch I originally considered. “About what?”
He rolled his eyes. Yeah, him. And yeah, it was damn sexy—except for the fact that I was still so irked, the shoulder punch still wasn’t out of the question.
Finally, he clarified, “About the fact that I spent the night with you, carrying on like a lunatic about my brother’s heroic feats—”
“You weren’t a lunatic.”
“Followed by the morning you spent with him at the air strip,” he continued, slamming the mute button to my interjection. “Followed by Syn ordering me back to the rescue center, so I could ‘help him out’ on airlifting some horses stranded on the Asuman cliffs.”
My eyes bugged. A good thing. That explained the rough-and-ready wardrobe. Another good thing. Best of all, it clarified why he looked a little wind-chapped and a lot happy. Two really good things.
“Wow!” I exclaimed. “Really?”
His answering look was puzzling. Though his gaze still gleamed, his lips pursed. “Yes,” he finally replied. “Really. Though I thought you would be the first to be filled in.”
My own lips twisted. “Why?”
“Because you were the reason it happened.”
The man did snarky as well as he did eye rolls—though this wasn’t sexy at all. This was outright accusation, and it was beginning to tick me off. “Is that what Samsyn told you?
“Of course not.” He frowned. “He had some story about being down on men because people needed to rotate out due to exhaustion. Said that the horses were thoroughbreds, and would have to be counted as collateral damage from the storm if a crew did not get to them.”
I glowered harder. “He had ‘some story’, huh? And then he went and parked a bunch of expensive thoroughbreds on a cliff too? And told a bunch of men, who’d been working around the clock, to go pretend they were exhausted and asleep—all just for you? All because I talked to him?”
His mouth contorted. He parked a hand against the tree trunk, drumming his fingers against the wood. Good.Fidget away, asshole.
