Figure of Speech
Page 38

He pointed toward a door right off the front, beside the coat closet. She darted inside, waited a moment or two, and then flushed. She started running water in the sink, splashing it on her face. She took a deep breath and toweled her face dry before giving herself a stern look in the mirror. “Okay, Chloe. You’ve bot this. You can do it.” She opened the door and squeaked.
Jim stood on the other side, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze filled with amusement. “Everything all right?”
She nodded. “Yup.”
“Mm-hm.” He shook his head and took her hand. “C’mon, Chloe. Let’s get you settled for the night.”
She let him tug her up the stairs, unable to look away from him. His scent filled her, so strong here in his home she felt wrapped in it.
“This is a spare bedroom I’m using for storage right now. It wouldn’t be hard to change it to a guest room.”
She blinked, trying to focus as Jim gave her a tour of the upstairs, but everything was a blur other than the feel of his hand in hers.
“This is the guest bath, and this is the second bedroom. I’ve got it set up for guests.”
“It would make a great…” She gulped and shot him a quick look.
“A nursery?”
She couldn’t tell how he felt about that from his neutral tone, but she wasn’t going to lie to him and say she didn’t want kids. No matter how terrifying the prospect was, today had reminded her that her family, and her mate, had her back. “Yes.”
He grinned back at her. “Good.”
The relief made her light-headed.
“And this is the master bedroom.” He opened a door wide, showing a very masculine, very bachelor bedroom. Dark cocoa walls, a king-sized bed with attached end tables and the biggest television this side of a movie theater were the only things in the room.
He seemed pleased by it. He waited for her reaction with a big grin on his face.
It was a good thing she was a shifter, because it was darker than the inside of a troll’s asshole in here. “Where’s the lights?”
He flipped a switch, and the ceiling fan she hadn’t noticed before lit up.
“Oh.” She bit her lip. “What about when you want to read in bed?”
His grin dimmed. “Kindle.” He glanced around, as if suddenly realizing she was less than enthused. “You don’t like it?”
It wasn’t the eclectic, kind of crazy room she adored, but she could work with what was in here. “Can I bring my afghan?”
He seemed relieved. “Yup.”
“Can I bring my pillows?” Because, God help her, this room needed color like a caffeine addict needed Starbucks.
“Sure.”
“Can I—”
He put his hand over her mouth. “Whatever you want, put it in here.”
She licked his palm until he removed his hand with a grimace. “Can we ditch the TV?”
“Fuck no.”
“But—”
“No.” He pointed to the wall-mounted entertainment center. “That’s where I do some of my relaxing.”
There was every game console she could think of on that wall, along with a ton of games. “Why not move it to the family room?”
“And let your brothers and cousins get at it?” He shuddered. “They’d delete all my saves.”
She wanted to think up a compromise. He was taking her into his home, but it was going to be their home. “How about we make an ‘us’ cave?”
He stared at the television. “An us cave?”
She nodded. “Pick a room—”
“—and put the TV and game consoles in there?”
“If you make it off-limits to guests your games won’t get messed up.” The more she thought about it, the more she liked it.
He put his arm around her, his gaze still glued to the television. “But what would you do?”
She stared at the controllers. “Learn to pray.”
“Huh?” He saw what she was looking at and laughed. “Oh.”
She shrugged, unfazed by his amusement. She knew enough gamers to know cursing and praying went with the territory. “Might be good therapy.”
“For your hands?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Nope. I’m training for the perfect swamp ass.”
He coughed, peering at her behind. “Two out of three ain’t bad.”
She blushed. “Shut up, you.”
He swung her around and picked her up around her waist. “Wanna play with my joystick?”
“That depends.”
“On?” He carefully put her down on the bed, then knelt and took off her sandals.
Chloe winked. “On whether or not you’re going to mash my buttons.” She wiggled as he pulled her pants down.
“I stroke keys. Caress them. I know which ones to press to get the achievement.” He looked at her through his lashes, his T-shirt joining her jeans. “But if you try going offline I might have to unleash an AOE to wake you back up.”
Okay, now he’d lost her. “What’s an AOE?”
He laughed. “It means area of effect, like a fireball spell.”
“Oh.” She tugged her own T-shirt off. “I really don’t want my tail singed.”
“But I like it when you get all hot and bothered.” He reached around and unhooked her bra. With a little wiggly help from her, he lifted it away and dropped it on the floor.
“There’s a difference between tanned and burnt.” Chloe unbuttoned his jeans, concentrating on that so hard she didn’t realize he’d frozen. “What?”
“Little Miss Chloe.” He nipped her neck. “Are we into kink?”
She snarled as her eyes changed color. “You are not turning my behind fifty shades of red.”
“Don’t worry,” he snickered, his five o’clock shadow brushing against her sensitive skin. “I only spank bad pups.” He flinched, rearing up as her hand smacked his ass. “Ow! What was that for?”
She wagged her finger at him. “Bad puppy.”
He grumbled under his breath, but instead of making love to her, like she’d thought he was going to, he yawned so wide she could see the bumps at the back of his throat.
“Tired?”
“I’m fine.” His lips clamped shut, but it wasn’t like she couldn’t see his chest expanding or his eyes squinting. He let the held-back yawn out in one long, slow breath. “See?”