Page 118 of Unexpected Heroine

I nod.

“Well, I didn’t know you’d be attacking me in the shower, or else I’d have checked in with her to assess her comfort level.”

I shake my head, utterly baffled. Is this something other people think about when getting intimate?

“What’s confusing you, baby?”

“So much.” I open and close my mouth like a fish. “At my apartment, you’ve never cared when Freya is home.”

“Because I checked in with her beforehand.”

My eyes bulge. “What? You talked to her about sex with me?”

The skin between his eyebrows crinkles. “Just because we get off on being watched or heard doesn’t mean our kinks trump everyone else’s consent. Besides, given what’s happened to you, they might feel even more odd about hearing us.”

He has great points. But something still feels... off.

“I don’t understand. Are you upset?” he asks.

The temperature of the water isn’t as warm, so I reach over to adjust the setting. “Yeah. No. I mean...” I pause, attempting to figure out why that feels weird. I come up with nothing. “Honestly, I don’t know. I suppose I’m surprised you talked to her about it without looping me in. And she didn’t ever mention it either.”

“For what it’s worth, it was a quick two-sentence discussion in passing when we first started seeing each other. Not like we compared notes, discussed positions, and decided on safe words.”

A chuckle bounces out from the back of my throat. “Makes sense. I’m not so innocent either, since I’ve talked to her about dirty stuff too. I’m not mad, babe. It just hit me as a bit strange, that’s all.”

“Well, this is me we’re talking about. Strange, odd, and creepy. That’s the Tomer trifecta,” he quips, a smile licking at the corner of his mouth.

For whatever reason, it makes me happy as a pig in slop. “Are you poking fun at yourself?”

“If everyone else can do it, why can’t I?”

As I study his genuine smile, binding it to my memory, it warms my entire body more than a scalding hot shower ever could. “You’re in a good mood tonight, huh? Wonder what’s got you all cheery.”

As soon as the words are out, I regret it. Classic Lettie.

The orgasm fog made me forget all that transpired this evening. Hell, for a while, I forgot all the trauma of the last week. Nearly without warning, I’ve been smacked with reality poop like the monkey on my back tossed it in my face.

Welp. Might as well feed my monkey a banana and satiate its curiosity.

He kisses me chastely. “Since I got home, you haven’t asked me about tonight. I was under the impression, perhaps incorrectly, that you didn’t want to know. I’ll tell you what happened if you want.”

Pausing only briefly to consider his words, I answer, “I am a little curious.”

Little? Ha.

However, curiosity killed the cat and all. Probably best I don’t push my luck.

I’d bet my buttered butt that my face reveals every ounce of my lingering apprehension about hearing the truth. He’s intensely aware I’ve been tiptoeing around difficult conversations thanks to my pathetically fragile state.

I want to know more about what he did. Yet I also don’t want to know. In summary, it’s a befuddling time to be Lettie Holt.

His turquoise eyes peruse me cautiously, probably evaluating whether I can handle the truth. “Don’t worry, sugar. I kept my promise. No shooting or killing. I didn’t even have to manhandle anyone.”

My gaze drops to his right hand, where it’s red and swollen. I noticed it earlier but swept it under the rug. I’m going to need to get a bigger carpet if this continues.

Oh fuck it.

I grab his hand delicately, bringing it between us. “If you didn’t get physical with anyone, then why does your hand look like this?”

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