Page 11 of Wicked Bonds
And he’d taken full advantage.
That might make him an asshole, but she was the one who had stolen his memories. It only seemed fair for him to retrieve them in kind.
He just hadn’t expected to find that many recollections involving his name.
They weren’t clear by any means, just high-level details that she stored in the outer layers of her mind, thus suggesting she thought of him often.
He rather liked that development. It helped put him at ease in a way because she’d captivated his focus when she’d arrived shortly after Stas’s death.
Leela shivered as he shifted to retrieve a bottle of shampoo, her irises spinning with a flurry of emotion.
Lust. Fear. Acceptance. Desire.
It was an intoxicating blend that taunted his own senses, stoking a flame within him that burned entirely for her. He couldn’t remember the last time a female had done this to him. He loved women, men, sex, living life. It was all natural to him.
But something about Leela enthralled him in a manner many others hadn’t.
An impressive feat, considering his several thousands of years of existence.
Perhaps there’s more she’s hiding, he marveled as he combed the shampoo through her hair. He’d uncovered Brazil from her thoughts, but maybe they’d met prior to that, which could explain the bizarre connection he felt to her.
“When did we first meet?” he asked her, carefully listening to the answer in her mind rather than the one that graced her lips.
“The first time I ever spoke to you was in Brazil,” she said.
Her mind confirmed that to be true. However, it also clued him in to another secret. “But that’s not the first time you saw me.”
“No. I’ve been aware of you for… a while.”
“Oh?” He cocked a brow, amused. “Are you a fan of my work, Leela? Is that why you sought me out?”
She snorted. “I didn’t search for you,” she told him. Her thoughts immediately verified the statement as true. “And being a fan suggests I envy something about you. Which I don’t.”
“Being a fan doesn’t equate to envy. It suggests excitement. Intrigue. A desire to learn more, perhaps.” He pulled her back beneath the water while he spoke, waiting for her thoughts to confirm his suspicion.
But they didn’t.
Yes, there was some interest—enough that she’d indulged him in Brazil. But not because she’d longed to experience his prowess.
No.
She’d allowed their playtime purely because she’d wanted to see if he could keep up.
Fascinating.
He’d never met a woman who considered herself his equal, let alone his better.
“I really am going to make you re-create those memories with me,” he decided out loud.
“Maybe I don’t want to re-create them.”
He merely looked at her. Her thoughts told him it was a lie before she even finished speaking, and the pretty blush on her cheeks told him she knew it, too.
Rather than push for more, he focused on rinsing her hair, then repeated his actions with the conditioner before grabbing a bar of soap. She might have betrayed his mind, but she still deserved this show of affection.
He could hear her confusion.
Because she knew he wasn’t happy with her.
