Page 48 of Romancing His Heart
“Hey.” After slamming the door shut behind me, I drop to the floor next to her.
“It’s, it’s not what you think. J-Just go to bed and let me clean this up,” she pleads.
“Sweetheart? I don’t give a fuck what it is. But, I need you to understand what just went through my mind, okay? I went from having a raging hard-on to thinking you were a murderer in the same breath. I’m so confused. I don’t know what’s going on, but look around. Tell me this isn’t funny.”
Without making eye contact, she surveys the room. Illuminated by firelight, it looks like we just knocked over a sex shop.
“I know everyone thinks I write my stories based on experience, but that’s not entirely true.” Her voice is so quiet, I have to strain to hear her. “Yes, the emotions come from life experience. Well, mostly, but I don’t sleep with all of them. I use these dolls to make sure my sex scenes are as realistic as possible. I’m not a virgin, but I don’t exactly have a ton of experience. And my stories? Well, they paint a pretty vivid picture for my readers.”
There are so many places to go in her explanation. I’m not sure where to start, and I tell her so. “That’s a lot of information, and I will most definitely have questions. But, let’s start with the obvious. You’re saying you use these guys,” I pick up an arm and toss it back into the bin, “to help you write sex scenes?”
Covering her face with her hands, she mumbles, “Yes.”
I reach over, remove one hand from her face, and force her to look at me. “You realize that is a lot easier to swallow than thinking you’re a killer?”
I’m rewarded with a crooked smile that isn’t quite sure which way it wants to go.
“I know this is weird.”
“A little.” I laugh.
This time, she joins me. Clutching her stomach, she laughs so hard tears spill from the corners of her eyes. Happy tears I can handle.
“I’m never going to live this down, am I?”
“Never. Come on.” Offering my hand, I help pull her to standing. “It’s late, and if I think about this too long, I’ll have too many questions to sleep. Let’s clean up, and we can revisit this shit tomorrow.”
“Ugh. Can we not?” she asks hopefully.
“Not a chance, Red. Things just got a lot more interesting around here.” Grabbing the suitcase Preston sent, I hand it to her. “I think your clothes are in here. Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll take care of this, er, stuff?”
“What do you mean? I’m going to bed. What do you want me to get dressed for?”
“You’re not sleeping in that.”
Her posture stiffens, and I know I said the wrong thing.
With her finger and thumb tapping, she purses her lips. “Are you sleeping in your boxers?”
Fuck.
“It’s all I have.”
“Me too,” she fires back.
“I’m sure Preston sent something. Sloane, listen to me. We are already squeezing into that miniature-sized bed. Please, cut me some slack here.”
She lets out an exasperated sigh but gives in. “Fine. If Preston sent some pajamas, then I’ll wear them. But this is not over, mister.”
“Fuck. Don’t call me mister, Red.” My voice is sounding hoarse.
Her eyes smolder as she glances over her shoulder. The firelight reflects off every inch of her delicious body. “Do you like to be in control, Mr. Kane?”
“I don’t like it, Red. I require it.”
“Good to know. Maybe you’ll teach me a few things after all, Loki. It’s about time I started taking control, too.”
I don’t have time to ask what she means because as she turns, all coherent thought leaves my brain. Her panties hug the curve of each cheek as she walks away. Her round, heart-shaped ass on full display. The ruching of her panties draws my eye right to her seam.
