Page 47 of Wicked and Claimed

He busted out laughing. “True that. God, it’s good to be home. What a fucking horrible op that was. I hate being schlepped out to urban shitholes for stupid-ass reasons.”

“What happened?”

Nash sighed. “I can’t say. Political ramifications and all that.”

“Was it dangerous?”

“Isn’t it always? But I’m careful. And why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got a good reason to come home…”

“Yeah?” Her heart lodged in her throat. “Are you BSing me?”

“Never. And I’m not going soft, either. When I have pussy this good, it’s impossible not to be hard as fuck.”

On some level, she knew he meant that as a compliment…but it was hardly a confession of love. Then again, she hadn’t expected one. By unspoken mutual agreement, they kept emotions beyond desire to themselves.

God, the silence made everything between them feel tenuous. Uncertain. Their communication was shit. But Haisley wasn’t ready to be brave enough to tell him how she felt. Getting attached to anyone—even family—had never worked out for her. And Nash had been very clear that he wasn’t interested in permanence of any kind.

So Haisley did what she could—held him close, tracing lazy patterns on his back as she inhaled him and tried not to dread the moment it would end.

The air smelled like sex. Her head was filled with him as he tightened his grip, drawing her closer. “I have a very important question for you, Rowe.”

Her heart leapt. Was there any chance he felt something more for her? That he was ready to say something? “I’m listening.”

“McDreamy or McSteamy?”

That’s what he wanted to know? Stifling her disappointment, she snorted. “Neither. Give me Cristina and Owen any day.”

“Really? I pegged you for a Meredith and Derek fan.”

“Too obvious. Cristina and Owen had that fiery passion, that delicious tension.” She glanced up at him through her lashes. “You know what I mean.”

Nash grinned. “I do.”

They lapsed into a charged silence. Haisley ached to ask him what they were, to put a label on this incredible thing between them. But the words stuck in her throat.

He tried again. “What about Carrie and Mr. Big?”

She forced a laugh. “God, no. That whole relationship was a toxic mess.”

“True.” He toyed with a strand of her hair. “But they had chemistry. Their connection was undeniable, even when they were apart. You know?”

Haisley’s breath caught. Was he hinting at something? Or was she just projecting her own hopes onto his meaning? “When you put it like that…your argument has merit. How do you know about all these fictional couples? Have you actually watchedGrey’s AnatomyandSex and the City?”

“Not much, but you know I have three sisters who love both shows. On long plane rides to my next hotspot, I sometimes sneak in a few episodes so we’ll have something to talk about.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying. You like those shows.”

“I plead the fifth onGrey’s. And Carrie is too self-absorbed and self-sabotaging for me to takeSex and the Cityseriously. Miranda annoys me. Charlotte is vapid and?—”

“Of course you prefer Samantha. It figures you’d identify with the one whose motto is nail everyone hot and move on.”

“At least she’s honest. But I like her more because she’s driven and fearless. Like someone else I know.” He tapped her nose. “But if you think I’ve been nailing anyone and moving on these days, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Was he saying he hadn’t been with anyone else lately? Haisley hadn’t been since their first time together, but she’d never asked what or who else he did. She’d been too afraid of the truth, and neither of them had ever breathed a word about exclusivity. “Oh?”

“Don’t look shocked. I’m way too into your body to mess with anyone else these days.” He dropped a lingering kiss on her lips. “Want me to show you again?”

“Please,” she breathed. “Sir.”

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