Page 31 of Touch

“The arrow was in your defense, my legs slipped across the hood, and the skirt is innocent of all crimes.”

Andrew’s gaze rakes down her figure, then drags back to her face. “Not from where I’m standing.”

“Then move.”

“Or what?”

Insubordinate human. With a razor tongue like his, this mortal must use a whetstone to sharpen it on a daily basis.

They barely know one another, yet they’re acting like fated mates. If they were from the same world, their lips would be inches from scraping together. For the thousandth time in an hour, Love feels borderline reckless. That and frustrated, with her dress clinging too tightly, the urge to peel it off and sink into him reaching detrimental levels.

“If you had swerved in front of an oncoming car, I’d have jumped down, blocked it with one hand, and shoved your truck to safety with the other. My antics have been rudimentary thus far.” She meets his gaze full force. “You haven’t begun to learn the mayhem I can cause.”

“You haven’t begun to learn what I can handle,” Andrews husks.

Love raises a shaky finger, which hovers like mist against Andrew’s collarbone. Although she cannot exert pressure, the gesture nudges him back. “We cannot touch.”

The mortal’s next question drizzles down her flesh like candle wax. “Are you wet?”

Almighty fuck. She… cannot formulate a response, apart from what’s occurring skin-deep. An hour prior, she could have answered no. However, her cunt provides a different reply before Love has the presence of mind to censor herself. “Yes.”

If she could measure his reaction with a thermometer, the apparatus would reach fatal levels and shatter. Those pewter eyes glitter, and the edge of his lips curls into a smarmy grin. “Then Iamtouching you.”

11

Goddesses do not clutch their pearls. Neither do they flush like vestal virgins.

Yet under the skirt, the texture of his words reaches everywhere important. Love’s pussy aches, and the points of her nipples toughen, the tips poking through her bodice and slipping into his body. Their hips pass through one another like water yet send bolts of electricity to her clit. It does not matter that they can’t touch, for she feels him against every inch of flesh. To answer his question, an influx of fluid puddles in the rift in her thighs.

Thank Fates, inexperienced deities don’t wear chastity belts. His response would have busted hers open.

Love glowers. “I request a parley.”

The divot in his cheek deepens. Yet after a moment, Andrew nods. “After last night, what changed your mind? You used the word ‘dangerous.’” His expression twists like barbed wire. “Were you lying about this being risky only for me? Are there others like you? Because if anyone comes near you—”

“The situation is no longer dire,” Love fibs. “I’ve never met a human and was being overly cautious. Since then, I’ve had time to rationalize, and I’m curious to know more about you. However, heed this warning: I prefer to speak in riddles.”

He pounces. “Tell me what you are.”

“I’m neither living nor dead.”

“There’s more.”

“Probably.”

“And I may as well be digging for fossils with a fork, for all the details you’re going to spill.” Andrew sighs in mock defeat. “I suppose you’d like a tour inside.”

“That would be nice.”

But what isn’t nice is the destitute feeling that assaults Love the moment Andrew breaks away, taking his proximity with him.

Rounding the structure, he opens the shop door and steps aside, beckoning her to enter first. Fiction has truly made a home in this place. Stepping indoors, Love imagines stories of lost dreams, betrayal and cautionary tales, and a myriad of emotions thriving within the pages. Fear, pity, rapture.

Like yesterday, the matriarch sits on the barstool by the register. This time, she’s pouring over a historical hardcover chronicling the 1940s. The decade is impossible to forget. As with many archers, Love had been summoned to Europe, where the war kept her, Anger, and Sorrow busy.

“Morning, handsome,” the woman greets Andrew without looking up.

The other night, this mortal had sensed an unearthly presence in the shop. This time, Love is prepared in case that happens again.

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