Page 83 of The Satyr's Guilt
“Really? Why?”
Ram ran his hand along her thigh. “You tellme,” he whispered in her ear, his tongue stroking her lobe.Holdback, he cautioned himself. Sex. Nothing more. Unfortunately,his emotions pinged from one chamber of his heart to another. Hewas in new territory, and he didn’t like it.
When a soft knock sounded, he jerked away,his finger imitating a plug in a wall socket. Denim shot upright atthe same time, both two guilty juveniles caught doing the nasty onMommy’s couch.
Jonquil peeked in. “Night. I’m going tobed.”
Ram scrunched his eyes together. “Already?”Suspicion reared its head. Getting her to sleep early was usually abattle of wills.
Jonquil padded into the room to kiss him onthe cheek. “I’m really tired.” She paused, yawned, stretched herarms overhead, and leaned in to give Denim a peck. “Night. Thanksfor coming.”
Denim ran her fingers along her jaw whereJonquil had planted the kiss. “I’ve had a wonderful time. I’m soglad you invited me.”
Ram thought he saw moisture in Denim’seyes.
“Good. You’ll come again.” His daughterflounced out of the room in her soft pink dress.
Ram’s gaze followed Jonquil, who seemedpleased with herself. What an actress. She thought she was soclever.
Denim took Ram’s hand. “I think you’rewearing me down, satyr. If you proposition me another day, someother place, I might accept.”
Her words raced to his groin, but he neededto be sure she understood. “Don’t make more of this thing betweenus than what it is, Denim. You can’t count on me. I’m not seeking arelationship. Can you handle the situation?”
“I don’t need you to take care of me. I’mresponsible for myself.”
“We still work together. That bothered youbefore.”
“Someone else could become my trainer.”
“Hell no. Not happening. No males are goingto be laying their sweaty hands on you.”
“Don’t you have rules about fraternizationin the Firebrands?”
“Nope.” His eyes flashed green. “More wine?”He grabbed the bottle to pour. His cock said getting it on withDenim was a good idea. His mind told him he was in over hishead.
Hell with it. Get her outof my fucking system. Right?
Chapter Eighteen
Ram made it all the way up the stairswithout bumping into any familiar faces. Not that he cared. He setpart of his load on the floor out of sight before he rapped on thedoor.
Denim answered in light gray sweats, a thintee, white socks, and no makeup. Her hair hung around her face in aloose mess. She looked incredibly sexy. Like she hadn’t been out ofbed too long.
Ram kept a hand behind his back.
Tugging a chestnut strand over her scar, shesmiled. “What do you have there?”
He pulled out a bouquet of flowers.
Denim accepted them with a halfheartedsmile. “Thanks. I’ll put them in water.”
“Oh, and this.” He bent to retrieve apackage wrapped in foil with a fancy bow.
Clearly surprised, Denim set the bouquet ona table near the door before she snagged the gift. “May I open itnow?”
“Yes. If I can come in.”
She stumbled over a few words before shestepped aside to wave him toward the sofa.
