His cock jumped against her belly.
Pure temptation. It
would be the easiest thing in the world to let her take charge of him. Maybe too easy, because it was exactly what he wanted—his heart’s desire while being absolved of all responsibility.
Yes, I’m aware she was a virgin, St. Peter, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Somehow Taye didn’t think that defense would hold much weight in heaven. Not that he thought he was going there—and did he really need another sin on his soul? He could too clearly picture the devil roasting his entrails, while whispering,
She was too good for you, asshole.
Gillie wasn’t meant for him. He’d known that from the beginning, even before that first, enchantingly clumsy kiss. He couldn’t repeat last night’s weakness, or he’d never be able to walk away from her. But even knowing he stood on shaky ground, it took all his willpower not to obey her playful command.
“I’d say, ‘not today.’”
“You have something better to do?” Her smile said she already knew the answer.
“I’m not ready.” He could’ve kicked himself when he saw the light in her expression, because with those words, he implied he would be, someday. And who was the inexperienced one here, anyway? But in a sense, they both were, because he couldn’t remember anyone else. Sex wasn’t new to him, but for the life of him, he could find no past lovers in his head. Just Gillie. Only her. He might have been born with her face imprinted in his brain. The first thing he could remember—after Rowan began the second round of experiments—was being wheeled past her apartment as Silas brought her out, probably to heal someone.
“That’s better than no,” she said softly.
Not like she would believe it if he claimed he didn’t want her. Just feeling her against him, savoring the clean soap and woman scent of her, drove him crazy. And she knew, dammit. She displayed new confidence, new seductive strength, in every gesture. Gillie had been dangerous enough to his equilibrium when she
wasn’t
sure how he felt, or what he wanted.
Amusement got the better of him, and he fell into his role with a growing sense of appreciation. “Just give me a little time, okay? I don’t want to rush into anything.”
“I’ll still respect you in the morning.”
The next part, he meant, serious as a heart attack. “But
I
won’t, if I do this now.”
Gillie didn’t know that, for him, the future was a mythical creature, like a griffin or a unicorn. If he could stall her long enough—without losing her affection—then maybe he could manage the situation. It would become a moot point.
“I don’t claim to understand, but I won’t press either.”
“Thank you.” He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d missed simple human contact. Though he had become a terrifying creature, portions of him still longed for comfort. She felt like the last tether holding him to this life; if she ever gave up on him, if she ever let go, then he’d morph fully into the monster he feared, the one that fed on fire and death. Simply put, Gillie held the silver cords to his soul.
He realized his mistake a few seconds later when she cupped his face in her hands and drew his head down. Taye had no ability to resist her at this distance, no secret well of strength. Instead he responded helplessly, hungrily. She had learned too much in a short time. Her lips toyed with his, playful and luscious.
“Gillie,” he bit out, feeling ridiculous. “No means no.”
“I’m not unfastening your pants, am I?” Her not-so-innocent blue eyes laughed up at him. “It was just a little kiss.”
Bullshit.
There was no such thing where she was concerned, no more than an arsonist could set a small fire, or a junkie could stop at one fix, just enough to take the edge off. And Taye felt every bit as compulsive where she was concerned. The long months of denial were driving him insane. He broke her hold on him gently and stepped away.
Taye winked, donning the cocky mask he wore when the pain bit deepest.
Thank God she hasn’t figured that out yet. It’d be the end of me.
“I guess I gotta come clean. You’re too much woman for me.”
She liked the implied compliment; he saw it in the proud little lift of her head. “I might be, but I could teach you to handle the pressure.”
“Maybe. Like I said, just give me a little time.”
The one thing he didn’t have. Such irony curled his mouth in a bitter smile, but he turned away before she could read his face.
Keep your secrets. Keep her safe.
It didn’t seem like too much weight for a dying man.
“What now?”
“I’m gonna go shovel the drive.” Exertion would help, although it wasn’t the kind he wanted or needed. Excess sexual energy might give him an embolism before their contact arrived, and it would take all his mental acuity to keep Gillie from figuring out his game. “We want our contact to be able to get to the house once the weather clears for good.”
“Need some help?”
He wouldn’t try to shield her from hard work. Her message had penetrated in that regard, at least. Gillie had to be free to do what she wanted, what she
chose
to do. “If there are two shovels, sure. Otherwise there’s no point in you standing in the cold.”
And she appreciated the shift in his attitude. Gillie beamed a smile at him, and it made his heart twist in his chest. Another man would one day claim all those smiles, all her kisses. He’d have
everything
, and that inevitable outcome made Taye want to set the whole world on fire, nothing but scarlet flames, from Atlantic to Pacific. But that was the monster talking. He strangled it to silence.
“I’ll bundle up. Then we can check the shed.”
It didn’t take long to get ready for outdoor work. Just his luck, there were two shovels. His and hers. Which meant more time in her company. But she seemed to like the physical force. Though she’d had a treadmill in her little apartment, apart from washing dishes at McGinty’s, she’d never done much in the real world. Never shoveled snow or felt chill wind on her face, kindling brightness to her eyes and the roses in her cheeks. To her, this probably felt like freedom.
Later, after they shifted the snow to clear a path, then warmed up with tea and leftover macaroni, Taye landed in the unenviable position of entertaining Gillie in a way that didn’t end with both of them naked. The safe house, while plenty safe, didn’t offer many amenities. When he suggested TV, she glared at him.
“No.
Nyet. Nunca
. I’d rather take a beating than watch another minute of TV.”
Fuck.
He’d forgotten it had comprised her chief entertainment and company for so many years. Yeah, that was right out.
Let’s see, there has to be something else we can do . . .
But while he searched the dusty bookshelves, she went into the kitchen and came back with a wine bottle.
Oh no.
She wasn’t getting him drunk to take advantage of him. Pained self-disgust washed over him. When had he become a fucking Victorian spinster afraid to show his ankles? It should
not
be this hard to stave off her advances.
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
“Bullshit. This looks old, which is supposed to be good for wine, right? So let’s see if age made it delicious. And while we drink, we’ll play Truth or Dare.”
The words rang a faint bell in his memory, but he wasn’t positive what she meant. Best to make sure. “What’s that?”
“It’s a game kids play. Usually, at least according to TV, they make each other do gross, embarrassing stuff. Or answer awkward questions.”
“I’ll have to take a lot of dares,” he reminded her.
“Doesn’t that depend on what I ask?”
Without awaiting his reply, she headed back to the kitchen, presumably for glasses. He heard her rummaging in the cupboards, then water ran. Rinsing them, maybe. When she appeared in the doorway, her cheeks were flushed pink, and she held a corkscrew in her teeth.
I can’t deny her this,
he realized. As long as it didn’t end in sex, Taye figured he could give her some of the fun she’d missed. Even if he was acutely conscious they were not children.
The glasses, she set on the pasteboard coffee table. He took charge of the bottle and the corkscrew. Though he didn’t think he’d used the device often, he managed to open it and decant the wine without making a huge mess. The vintage smelled strong, a rich ruby red in the glasses.
Gillie took a sip and her nose wrinkled. “Is this supposed to be good?”
How the fuck would I know?
Somehow he suspected he hadn’t been a fine-wine guy in his past life. Still, he tried it and offered his best guess. “I think. Probably?”
“It’s funny.”
“What?”
“I feel like we’re both discovering the world for the first time.”
“So we are.”
“And how do you feel about wine?”
“I don’t mind it. But I like the lager I had at McGinty’s better.” But he took another drink because the spreading warmth appealed to him.
It uncoiled his muscles and made him worry less about what would come. Before he knew it, he’d downed the entire glass. Gillie watched him with a faint half smile, half of hers still remaining.
“More?”
“I better not.”
“Then let’s start the game. Truth or dare?”
“How does this work anyway? I just have to pick blind?”
“I think so.”
“Truth, then.” He figured it would probably progress to dare when he couldn’t remember the answer.
“If you could do anything you wanted with me, what would that be?” No mistaking the sexual charge in her eyes or the provocative tilt of her head.
Aw, fuck.
She’d come up with a new way to torment him. This was, absolutely and for certain, not a children’s version of the game. But maybe he could have some fun with this. From her intent expression, she wanted to hear him talk about the dirty stuff. Yeah, he could work with this, strictly no touching. Just words.
Taye raked her from head to toe with his gaze. Anything he wanted? “I love looking at you, so I’d make you get naked. And then I’d make you sit on that chair”—he pointed to a ladder-back in the corner of the room—“and play with yourself while I watched you get off.”
Her breath caught, her cheeks flushing a deeper pink. “Really? That’s what you’d want, out of anything at all?”
“Right now? Yeah.”
If she asked the follow-up question in the next round, if she asked
why
, he’d have to answer,
because I can
have
that.
She watched the chair with unnerving intensity, and then she downed the rest of her wine.
Dutch courage, maybe.
But maybe his desires diverged down a different path from hers, and she didn’t need it.
“Your turn.”
This game might wind up being fun after all. “Truth or dare, Gillie-girl?”
Her full, rosy mouth curved into a smile. “Dare.”
Taye wondered if she thought he wouldn’t go there. But she’d set the tone, after all. If she’d opened with a question about his favorite sandwich, they wouldn’t be hovering on the cusp of a challenge so hot that he felt like his head might explode.
“I dare you to shuck your clothes, go sit in that chair, and execute my truth.”
CHAPTER 11
He doesn’t think I
will.
But Gillie had enough wine in her to make it seem sexy. Some people got off on watching; maybe Taye did. The way her body responded to the idea, she might be one of the others, one who enjoyed being watched. After a lifetime of surveillance, she’d never have guessed it would be the case, but it wouldn’t with just anyone. Only for Taye could she consider putting on such an intimate show—and possibly not if she were fully sober. She eased to her feet and walked to the center of the room.
Confidence. Certainty.
She peeled out of her sweats slowly, top first. No bra, of course. Which meant in one more garment, she would be naked in front of him, but it wasn’t the first time. He sat very still, hardly breathing, as she worked the pants down her hips. A lift of her thigh, and they pooled on the hardwood floor.
Starting to relish the display, she ran her fingers gently through her pubic hair, fluffing it. Gillie became aware how soft it was, fine down, barely there. She didn’t have enough to hide what she was doing.
“Sit down,” he said softly. “Legs open.”
Amending his script, she brought the chair to the center of the room, just on the other side of the coffee table, so she could prop one leg. If he leaned forward, he would be close enough to touch. By his tormented expression, he realized that as well.
“I’ve never done it this way,” she admitted, breathless. “I’ve only ever come on my stomach . . . or in your mouth.”
A groan escaped him. “But you’ll try for me.”